Yesterday's Secrets
by DuchessRaven
Summary: When a spell goes awry, reverting Integra's mind to that of a child, Alucard finds himself playing Daddy, literally, and discovers a few secrets about his master along the way. AxI
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is the counterpart to True to You. Generally a role-reversal for Alucard and Integra. It is not actually a sequal or in any other way related to True to You. I also officially credit the patching of certain plot-holes in this story to Elin-darling, my fabulous editor. Do check out her stuff. It's fantabulous.

Enjoy & Review! Check out the livejournal for other upcoming stories.

YESTERDAY'S SECRETS

CH 1

It was always at night that they moved. Stealthily in the dark, invincible by nature. They were strong. They were confident. They were vampires. By the light of the moon they preyed upon humans, feasting on their blood, taking their bodies as loyal servants, or as loyal as ghouls could be. In every aspect, they had it made. Despite the weaknesses they posses, they were powerful. Nothing could take them down. Especially not humans.

That was, of course, a false notion.

Alucard mused on this irony as he planted three more bullets in the leading vampire, a woman about thirty years old with a head of bushy brown hair. She had been young as far as vampires went, and quite powerful for her age, agile and smart. But she made the mistake of thinking she was invincible, like the young ones tended to do, and that made her an easy target for someone more experienced.

She shrieked in agony. Alucard didn't particularly enjoy the sound, as some may think. But it didn't really affect him either, killing his own kind. These young ones were reckless. If it were up to them, there would soon be no humans left to prey on, and they would eventually turn on each other. Such fools.

As the vampire crumbled to dust, her eyes bulged and stared at Alucard one last time. He was used to that look. They were always surprised that he, a fellow Median, worked for humans. They always had the same misconception, that humans were weaker. But that was alright. They were too young to have learned. Only he, one who had lived through history in person, had obtained the truth the hard way.

Lights washed the alley from behind. The clean-up crew was coming, which meant he better make himself scarce. Not all personnel in Hellsing were familiar or comfortable with his existence, and he was perfectly fine keeping it that way. Attracting attention to himself would only bring problems he didn't want to deal with. Besides, there were only a few in the organization who truly mattered.

Two of them were at the scene. Alucard hid a smirk as he drifted off into the shadows. His fledgling jogged past, the Harkonnen cannon in her arms. She seemed much too small for such a large weapon, although the same could be said for her breasts. But in both cases, she appeared perfectly at ease with them. Two of the Wide Geese were speaking to her as they followed. Unlike her master, Seras Victoria had always melded with the humans as if she was still one of them.

The bodies of the ghouls were gathered and the dust of the vampire cleaned up. There was some alarm. A casualty had occurred. It was regrettable, but not out of the ordinary. The body with the Hellsing insignia on its arm was covered and loaded into a vehicle after it was inspected for bite marks. Alucard snuck past the busy troops and approached the luxury car parked just outside the alley.

Standing next to her car, Integra ignored his presence as he remained in the shadows, but when she spoke, he knew she was addressing him directly.

"Report."

"One level-three," he said. "Six casualties. Five civilian. One Hellsing."

There was a slight twitch just under her right eye, a tiny tightening of the facial muscle that no one but Alucard caught. For several long moments she stood there, her eyes fixated on the scene in the alley.

"Any further orders, master?"

She tapped her fingers on the hood of the car lightly. It was a sign that she trying to thinking, but was finding it hard to do. "No," she replied simply after a few seconds. Then, without another word, she re-entered the car, slammed the door behind her, and he heard her give the order for the driver to head back to the mansion.

Alucard waited a while longer before emerging from the shadows, making two of the younger troops jump in surprise. But it wasn't them his red eyes followed. As his master's car disappeared around the corner, he contemplated his options.

Something was bothering her. Though something was usually bothering her in this line of work, it still made him curious. There were two things he could do: leave her alone for the night and let her work it out for herself in peace, or seek her out at the mansion and badger her a bit, offer some unsolicited advice and possibly receive a silver ashtray to the head.

He picked the latter.

After all, she shouldn't be alone after such a beautiful, bloodlust-filled night.

oOo

Per his usual entrance, Alucard emerged from the ceiling before Integra's desk. But this time he was greeted by a surprise – she wasn't in her chair. It was empty, as was the desk, whose surface was devoid of papers or half-smoked cigars. The usual signs of her frustration were absent.

"Did you need something?"

He dropped from the ceiling and turned. His master was by the door, her arms crossed and her face half-hidden by a river of blonde hair. She was facing one of the side walls, in front of the portrait of her father.

Alucard removed his hat and bowed. "Good evening, master."

"Was it?"

"When the moon is out and blood is in the air, it will always be a good evening for a vampire."

"What simple pleasures you have." She turned away from him and he saw her gaze up at her father's face. Alucard stepped next to her and did the same. There was a sense of longing in her eyes that she usually kept hidden from others.

"You miss him," he said matter-of-factly.

Integra nodded. "I do."

"And you worry that you can't live up to him."

She didn't answer. Instead, she turned and walked away from him, back to her desk, where she sat down and began to search through the nearest drawer for cigars. He'd hit the nail on the head. Alucard waited for her to find and light the cigar before going to her desk and leaning against it. She blew a perfect smoke ring into the air. It wasn't something she'd ever practiced, just something she was naturally good at. Despite the known health risks, he liked to watch her smoke. It gave her an air of power and mystery that always tickled his senses.

"You're right," she said, leaning back in her chair. She was calm. A little calmer than usual. He could feel the turmoil in her mind but for some reason she wasn't lashing out or snapping at him for disturbing her. "You're absolutely right. Is that why you came up here today?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. I merely came to see what's bothering you. Are you going to deny that something is?"

"No." She tapped the cigar over the ashtray on the table and sighed. "I made a mistake today, Alucard."

"You are referring to the soldier who died. I'd have thought by this point you'd understand that not every life lost on the battlefield is your fault."

"If a life is lost while I am in charge. It is my responsibility." The cigar was in her hand but she didn't put it back into her mouth. Instead, it lingered in the air, its light slowly dying out. "It's times like this that I wonder whether I'm really fulfilling my role like I'm supposed to, if I'm living up to what my father expected. Or," she paused, "if I'm failing because I worry too much about the past."

Alucard arced a brow in surprise. "You think you are failing, master?"

"Sometimes I do." Her eyes drifted back to the painting again. "And then I think if it's because I don't concentrate enough on the present. Too many things from the past affect me, and while I sit here and think about it, people die one after another. So much time I spend dwelling on the past." She chuckled sadly. "What a pointless endeavor."

Alucard laughed. Integra regarded him in surprise.

"Is this funny to you?" She wasn't angry. Instead, she sounded genuinely curious. "Does a being such as yourself find the tendency of mortals to dwell on the past humorous?"

Alucard cleared his throat and looked at his master, serious but at the same time a bit amused. "You are wrong, master," he said.

"How so?"

"First, you assume that because I have lived for centuries that I no longer treasure the past. While it is true that I rather not allow it to swallow me, I do not ignore it. The older one becomes, the more important one's past experiences are, because age without wisdom is worse than nothing."

Integra said nothing, but she puffed on the cigar just before the last pinpoint of fire went out.

"Second, you think that thinking of your past is only a distraction from the present. That is wrong. Only by analyzing your past can you learn to deal with the troubles of the present. How else would you learn otherwise?"

"Not everything of the past is worthy of analysis, Alucard."

"Your third mistake would be your quickness to think that."

Integra smirked. "You don't know everything."

"Nor do I pretend to. But in this aspect, I know more than you."

"And it would be _your_ mistake to assume _that_."

"Is that so?" He leaned down in front of her, his face inches away from hers. He heard her heart speed up just a bit. But she did not pull away. Her human pride would not allow her to show discomfort in front of her vampire servant. He bore his eyes into hers. "How can you be so sure?"

She pressed a hand against his shoulder. He knew she meant to push him away, but she didn't immediately. For a brief moment her hand was on his shoulder and their faces almost touched. So very close. Just a hair's moment…

Then she turned away and stood.

"I'm retiring for the night," she announced, straightening her jacket and avoiding his gaze. "I've had enough of your philosophy for one night. Now if you'll excuse me, I must get some rest. There's work to be done in the real world."

Alucard smirked to her retreating form. "The real world doesn't forget its history, Integra," he said.

She paused at the door. "That is true," she replied. "But it works for the present and towards the future."

With that, she was gone. Alucard stood also. He strolled to the portrait of Arthur and looked at it. It was a picture painted after his imprisonment in the dungeons. The Arthur in this picture was older, wiser, like a gentleman past his prime. It was fortune, he supposed, that Integra didn't know the wily, drunken Arthur that he knew, who usually had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and the Queen's orders in the other.

"Your daughter is a silly girl," he said to the portrait. "She thinks by forgetting the past she can make the present easier to deal with."

The portrait said nothing, but Alucard knew that the Arthur he once served would agree.

"Since you're conveniently absent, I suppose I'll have to teach her this lesson in your place."

The portrait once again said nothing, but the vampire already knew what the man would say if he was alive.

"And no, it's not just an excuse to sneak into her bedroom."

oOo

He waited another hour before carefully emerging from a corner of Integra's bedroom. She was sleeping soundlessly on her side, the covers pulled up to her chest. He would be disappointed that so much of her was hidden from sight, but he knew that even if she slept without the burdensome covers, there wouldn't be much to see, since she wore men's cotton pajamas to bed every night.

It was a pity. She was beautiful when she slept. As he approached the bed, he could hear her soft, rhythmic breathing as her chest rose and fell. Every now and then she would moan gently and her eyelids would flutter. Was she dreaming? Her dreams were hardly ever pleasant.

Her hair laid splayed out behind her. Alucard reached out carefully and touched the edge of her conscious. Her sleep was rather restless. Her thoughts were racing even though her body was utterly exhausted. It didn't help that she usually slept less than six hours a night.

_You're so tired, Master_, he thought. _Dealing with the present is wearing you out._

She turned onto her back. The covers fell to her waist. He wondered what the chances of him convincing her to wear something less confining to bed would be. Nonetheless, she looked amazing. Only in sleep was she most natural, most at ease, and her lovely face wasn't tainted by worried frowns and premature lines. Only in sleep did she look her age.

But he couldn't look at her all night. By unspoken rule, he was not allowed in her chambers, be it day or night, so he had to be quick. Probing her mind carefully, he found a small opening, and made the connection.

Her dreaming landscape was vast.

It took him a moment to adjust once the environment solidified around him. He looked to one side, then the other. There was no end anywhere.

Surrounding him was a gray desert. The colorless sand shifted underneath him as he walked. For the most part it appeared empty, but every now and then something would catch his eyes. There were trees, nondescript plants with leaves the color of blood. Then there were rocks, dark and cold, bearing marks that looked like the faces of people. Dead soldiers, living soldiers, Convention members, vampires. These were the markings of her current life, he realized, the things that her world revolved around. It was a dull, gray world indeed.

There was a statue of the Queen. Then a large silver cross. Wind brushed past him and he heard them carry whispered words.

…_your responsibility, Sir Integra…_

…_you have not done your job…_

…_a woman in the position of power cannot…_

…_do not forsake your duty…_

He waved them away just as the doors began to appear.

There were two columns of them, lined up and all facing the same direction like soldiers awaiting orders. As Alucard walked down the center, he noticed that some were open while others were closed. On each door, there was a picture or label.

One had the face of Arthur. This one was open. Another had the image of Walter, also open. There were a few more familiar faces, including his own, each with their own door. All open. One bore an image of the bible. Though open, the contents of this one seemed a bit muddled and chaotic. He didn't blame her. In this line of work, the interpretation of one's faith was bound to become just a bit twisted.

As he ventured further down the line, more closed doors began to appear. Time was reversing itself. He saw doors leading to early memories of Integra's schooling, her life with Arthur, her first few difficult months as director. About half of them were open. Further down the line, there were less than half, and then…

"Who are you?"

He started. A few yards ahead, standing in the middle of the two columns, was a little girl.

"Who are you?" she repeated. "What are you doing here?"

She was Integra. He had no doubt of it. But this was not the Integra he knew. Or even the one he met ten years ago. This one was younger. She looked no more than eight. Her face was fresh, with remnant traces of baby fat, and her blond hair was shoulder-length. On her face was a pair of round wire-rim glasses. He stopped in his step as she regarded him with big blue eyes.

"I'm just here to visit," he answered. She studied him a moment longer, then grinned broadly. At that age, she had not yet learned suspicion and cynicism.

"OK," she said brightly. "But you can't go any further." Raising one delicate little hand, she pointed at the doors behind her. "All of these doors are closed, and I have to stay with them."

He'd found it. Alucard smiled inwardly. "Why are they closed?" he asked. "Don't you want to open them so you can come out, too?"

She tilted her head. "I do," she said. "But I'm not supposed to."

"You don't want to be locked up here forever." He offered his hand. "Let me help."

oOo

At nine a.m., Walter rapped lightly on Integra's door. When no response came, he suddenly became very frightened. The Hellsing director hadn't overslept since she was fourteen years old. Had something unspeakable happened?

Worried, he pushed open the door and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her on the bed, sleeping soundly. He stepped a bit closer to the bed, made sure she was breathing, then went to draw the drapes.

As sunlight hit her face, she rolled onto her side and groaned. Walter smiled. So she was human after all. All those late nights had finally caught up with her for once. He opened a window to let in some fresh air as Integra sat up, stretched, and rubbed her eyes.

"Good morning, Miss Integra."

She looked at him sleepily and yawned. Her hair fell over her face and instead of brushing it away, she blew it out of her eye. Walter blinked in surprise. It was a habit she'd dropped before she turned ten.

"Morning, Walter," she said, and smiled a bright, sunny smile that he hadn't seen in many years. For some reason, paranoia crept into the butler's heart again. In a split second he assumed the worst had happened as his mind worked wildly. Integra had been kidnapped and this was an imposter. Or someone's brainwashed her and…

"Walter?"

He snapped back into focus. The young woman on the bed rested her arms around her knees. No, this was Integra. He couldn't know Integra better if she was his own daughter. But something felt strange. What was it?

"Yes, Miss Integra?"

"Did Daddy come home last night?"


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

It had only been two hours since Alucard settled down in his coffin when a loud thumping woke him rudely. At first he thought he was dreaming, but then the sound got louder, and more urgent. It was coming from directly above. Someone was thumping on the lid of his coffin.

"Get up." Someone said. "Get up. Get up. Get up."

Annoyed, Alucard shifted in the coffin and pushed the lid away. Who in the Hellsing house had such audacity? There were only a few who dared do such a thing, all of whom did not fear his wrath in the least. It was a pity, for he dearly wished to unleash his wrath on someone for waking him up at this ghastly hour.

Walter's face greeted him as the coffin's lid fell away. Alucard glared at him unhappily, his ruby eyes glowing. The butler didn't even blink.

"Someone better be dead," he grumbled.

Walter dropped a picture into his lap. Confused, Alucard picked it up. It was a photo of Arthur, some years after his imprisonment. He looked a few years younger than the portrait in Integra's office.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Walter pointed at the picture. "Can you turn into that?"

He looked at the picture again, then back at the butler. "Have you lost your mind, old man?"

"Just do it. Now."

Something about the butler's expression told Alucard the man wasn't joking. Baffled, Alucard stepped out of the coffin as his clothes and features melted away and reformed as that of the late Arthur Hellsing. His coat changed into a white suit. Walter shook his head.

"No. Arthur threw that suit out before Integra was born. Make it black."

"What difference does it make?"

There was a strange look of weariness in Walter's eyes as Alucard darkened his suit. He pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose and gestured for Alucard to follow him upstairs. When he tried to take a shortcut via the walls, the butler snapped at him harshly and told him to walk and act like a human. Like Arthur, to be precise. It all seemed like some bad joke.

"What's going on?" he demanded as they approached the kitchen. "Why am I…" His words caught in his throat as Walter pointed at the kitchen table.

Sitting at the table was a woman. At first he almost didn't recognize his master, being so used to seeing her in her suit, scarf, and scowl. But at the moment, with the curtains drawn and her exposed skin basked in sunlight, she looked like a completely different person. Seras was standing by the sink, a look of apprehension on her face.

"We had to find her one of Miss Victoria's dresses," Walter whispered. "She didn't want to wear the suits."

It still took a moment for Alucard to convince himself that the person at the table was Integra. She was wearing a dress. A yellow strapless summer dress with large, sunny flower print and a red ribbon cinched at the waist. Sunlight washed over her shoulders, arms, and gave her hair a white glow like an angel's halo. The dress was obviously too short, as she was quite a bit taller than Seras. It ended several inches above her knees, showing off her long, smooth legs. But the rest of it fit her quite well, even the top, as he noticed with an uncomfortable stir inside.

Who knew his master could fill up his fledgling's dress so nicely?

In front of her was a glass of milk and a piece of half-eaten toast. When he entered, she had been meticulously peeling an orange. Spotting him, she dropped it onto the table and leapt up out of her seat. She was barefoot.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed. Running to him, she wrapped her arms around him tightly. He couldn't help but notice how thin the material of the dress was, and the fact that it was the only thing separating him from her…

Walter cleared his throat. "Now, Integra," he said, speaking as if to a child. "Your father is very tired from his trip and needs to rest. Why don't you continue your studies for now?"

She pouted. Actually pouted. Alucard couldn't believe his eyes. "OK," she said in a small voice after a moment, still clinging to him tightly. Then, she raised her eyes to him. "Will you have dinner with me tonight, Daddy?"

Alucard glanced at Walter, who gave him a stern look that told him to play along. Seras nodded at him, encouraging the same. "Of course," he said, then thought of adding something. Did Arthur have some term of endearment for his daughter? Sweetheart? Pumpkin? Baby? He couldn't bring himself to call his master any of those things.

Thankfully, she didn't notice. "OK," she said brightly, releasing him. "I'll be in the library, Walter."

With that, she bounded out of the kitchen. Walter made a firm motion at Seras, who immediately followed Integra out to the hall, where they disappeared down the far end. Sighing, Walter leaned against the wall and kneaded his brow.

"She woke up like this," he said tiredly.

Something inside Alucard tightened. "This morning?"

"Yes. She overslept. I went to wake her, and the first thing she did was ask about her father."

"You have no idea what might've caused it?"

Walter shook his head. "No clue. I don't think I can begin to explain the seriousness of the situation to her, not while she's like this." He looked at the vampire. "Sorry, but you're stuck like that for a while until I figure out a way to handle this. You can go back to bed now, but be up by six o'clock for dinner."

Alucard found it rather hard to sleep after that. His first instinct was to follow his master to see exactly what she had turned into. But the truth was, he didn't need to. He already knew. He had caused this by breaking into her mind the night before. He didn't need to watch her. He needed to clear his head and find a way to take care of this.

As he laid in his coffin, his mind searched hastily for a solution. Could he bring her back by doing the same thing? Would she realize what he'd done? If he left her like this for too long, would it become permanent? What would the Convention members and the Queen think were they to find out?

Either way, he knew, someone was going to be in a lot of trouble.

Eventually, around noon, he fell into a fitful sleep, filled with dreams of trouble to come, intercepted with the faint remnant feeling of her body pressed against his, separated only by a thin layer of silk.

oOo

The little girl bounded to the library in high spirits.

Her Daddy was back. Her Daddy was always busy, but today he was back. When he's back he usually hugged and kissed her and told her what a good girl she was. Sometimes he brought her a small trinket or, as she preferred, tales of his adventures. He did so much. He said someday she'll do the same. Someday she'll go on adventures of her own, when she's a big girl.

She wanted to be a big girl quickly. She wanted to grow up and do what her Daddy did, even though she wasn't entirely sure what it was. He said someday soon he'll teach her.

Her bare feet scraped against the floors of the library. She always liked to be barefoot in the summer. It was too bad she couldn't find her favorite dress, a blue silk one her Daddy had bought her in Rome.

It was kind of a strange day already. When she woke up this morning she couldn't find any of her clothes, and Walter wasn't much help at all. He just stood there, not moving, when she asked him where all her summer dresses went, and whose suits it was hanging in her closet. And did he always have so much gray hair?

But she didn't think about it much. Little girls at this age never thought too much of anything. While Walter told her to wait in her room while he went off to find her something to wear, she looked out the window and breathed in the warm morning air. Summer was always her favorite season.

She wandered around the library. Daddy must have bought new books. There were many she didn't recognize. And did the shelves get shorter overnight? Stopping at one of the shelves, she retrieved a copy of _Dracula _from the top shelf. She was almost finished reading it. Just a few more chapters to go. Part of her noticed that she didn't need her usual stepping stool to get it, but her young mind decided not to dwell on it.

After all, Daddy was back. Nothing else mattered.

As she sat down on the floor to read, her long hair draped over her shoulders, she didn't notice the pair of red eyes peeking at her from the hall.

oOo

"Miss Victoria?"

Seras straightened quickly and stepped away from the library door. Walter approached and motioned for her to come closer.

"How is she doing?"

"I don't know." Seras glanced over her shoulder to make sure Integra was still inside. "I don't want to go near her. If you're right about what you said before then she wouldn't know who I am."

Walter nodded and sighed. "You're doing the right thing." He studied her face. "Are those contacts bothering you?"

"No, they're alright." Seras wrung her hands together. The butler could tell she was unsure of what to do next. She stifled a yawn. "Good thing you thought of them."

He adjusted his glasses. She must be tired. It was way past her bedtime. "You can go back to bed. I can handle this for now."

Seras seemed relieved but also unconvinced. "Are you sure, Walter? Do you think you can…"

The butler smiled. "I raised her, Miss Victoria. I know her better than anyone else. I don't think there's anything she can throw at me to surprise me anymore."

He waited for Seras to leave before looking into the library himself. There she was, sitting cross-legged on the floor, her dress hiked up to her thigh. When was the last time he saw her like this? Had it really been that many years? Though her present state of mind worried him greatly, there was something about seeing like this that warmed his heart.

She noticed him. Brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, she looked up and smiled. It was a smile he thought he'd never see again in this life time. Ever since Arthur's death, her smiles were few and far in between.

"Hi, Walter."

"Hello, Miss Integra." He stepped into the library. She was reading _Dracula_.

"Are we having lessons today? I forget."

Lessons. That's right. Before the age of ten, Integra was schooled by her father, Walter, and two different tutors on some occasions. After that, Arthur took over educating her full time. By this fact, he estimated that she was any where from ages seven to ten.

"No," he replied. "Not today."

She got to her feet and dusted off her dress. Her movements were large and childish. Then she set the book back on the shelf.

"What is Daddy doing today?"

"Your father is very tired from his trip. He's also very busy. But you will be able to have dinner together tonight." It felt rehearsed, and yet so familiar. As Integra grew up, Arthur was always busy, running from one thing to another. Although he tried his best to spare time for his only daughter, there was only so much he could do, and it certainly didn't make it easier with the early passing of the girl's mother. It always tugged at Walter's heartstrings the disappointment on her face when he had to inform her once again that her father won't be able to spend time with her.

It was the same disappointment on her face right now, but she was grinning regardless. Walter knew that expression well. It was the same one she used to have when she tried hard to hide her loneliness. "Oh," she said. "That's alright. I'll just see him at dinner then." She shuffled her feet. "Can we go for a walk?"

That was out of the question. Though he personally wouldn't mind taking a walk with her – God knows she didn't get enough sunlight and fresh air – Walter knew he could not risk having her seen like this. Not only would it pose great risk to her safety, it would be awfully hard to explain if word got back to the Convention members. He didn't need their probing questions, and _she_ certainly didn't need them either.

"On second thought," he said. "Why don't we continue your lessons? I'm sure your father would not want you to fall behind."

She shrugged. "Alright."

Walter closed the library door behind him. Thankfully, a few of Integra's old school books were still on one of the library's back shelves. He retrieved them and laid them down on a table by the window. "Now why don't you remind me where we left off?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Around five-thirty that afternoon, Alucard woke from his restless slumber. The first thing he did was to climb out of the coffin and take on Arthur's form once more, carefully molding his face to match the photo Walter had given him, which took quite a while. This was going to be quite a charade he was about to put on.

If he had a heart, it would pound right now. Right now, as he double-checked his black suit and the details of his face, he felt anxious and guilty. No doubt Integra's condition was caused by his hands. There was a plus side to that, however: by the same way, he ought to be able to fix it. All he had to do was wait for her to go to sleep. By tomorrow morning, she would be back to her old grouchy self. He may have to take a few days locked up in the dungeons for this one, but prolonging this would only extend the punishment with it.

At least there was a solution. He relaxed a bit at the thought as he fixed his hair, adding a few gray streaks to the side. It was too bad though; he really enjoyed seeing his master in that yellow sundress.

Around six, he arrived outside the dining room. Walter, who was waiting outside, promptly went to him and, holding his glasses close in front of his eyes, examined every nook and cranny of his face. Alucard considered making some sarcastic remark about personal space, but common sense told him it wasn't the time.

Finally, the butler stepped back. "It'll do," he said. "Now for the ground rules."

Alucard raised a brow. "The what?"

"The things you'll need to do so she won't suspect that you are anyone other than her father."

"How hard can it be?"

"Don't get smart with me," Walter snapped, surprising Alucard. It was very rare for the butler to speak to him like this. In fact, it hadn't happened in many decades. He meant business. "You may have known Arthur back then, but that man was not Integra's father. We don't know how serious her condition is right now. For all we know, she could be very fragile. If you care about your master at all, you'd follow my instructions."

Instead of arguing, Alucard nodded. Walter appeared satisfied.

"First things first. I've prepared a bottle of red wine mixed with medical blood for you. Fortunately, Arthur didn't always eat when he kept Integra company at dinner. But just in case, how much solid food can you take?"

"Enough to fake it. Why?"

Walter breezed past the question. "Second, be careful with dinner conversation. Stick to things you know. Vampire literature is good. Arthur often used dinner time as opportunities for lessons. If she asks you something you don't know, I'll be around. And third…" he looked at Alucard very closely. His eyes were hard. "Don't do anything he wouldn't."

Alucard smirked. "What is that supposed to mean, Walter?"

"Keep your hands to yourself."

"You don't trust me?"

"With my life, yes." The butler laid a hand on the doorknob to the dining room. "With her body, no."

"You make it sound so vulgar."

"Just keep yourself in check," Walter said firmly, and pushed open the door. Alucard, imitating Arthur's posture as best he could remember, walked inside.

Integra was sitting at the table. When he entered, she flashed him a broad smile. The yellow sundress was still wrapped around her body, but her hair was up. He had never seen her wear her hair up before. As long as he's remembered, her hair was down, hiding her neck and sometimes her face, shielding her cold eyes from the world.

But now, her blond mane was tied up in a ponytail, secured with a blue ribbon that conveniently matched her eyes, and he couldn't help but notice her bright her face was, and how sunny her skin looked when exposing its full beauty unhindered. And her neck…

Walter was watching him. He took a seat across from Integra, where Walter had placed the wine bottle and glass. Looking at her long, smooth, perfect neck, he suddenly wanted to stand up and move next to her, where he could lean over during dinner and perhaps take a whiff of her scent. And he would have done it, too, if Walter wasn't glaring at him.

"How was your trip, Daddy?"

His mind worked quickly. Walter stepped forward and poured him a glass of wine. "It was just fine," he said with a smile, and hoped she would be satisfied with that answer. It felt rather strange to smile without his usual smirk or dark sneer.

Luckily, she was. Alucard guessed that Integra wasn't privy to too much of her father's business at this young an age. Walter exited and returned with a plate of food, which he set in front of Integra.

"Here you are, Miss Integra," he said. "I made your favorite."

Alucard hid his surprise as Integra picked up a fork and dug in. He never knew that his master had a favorite food, or even thought about it. In the few times he'd seen her eat, she'd always been efficient and clean if alone, and polite and dignified if with others. He could never tell whether she enjoyed her food or not, as it seemed like just another task in the day when she ate. If she was born without taste buds, it probably didn't make a huge difference.

But for the first time, looking over his wineglass, Alucard witnessed his master enjoy a meal. Although she still ate primly and properly like a lady, there was a sort of relish in her eyes as she ate. He could tell she was relaxed, and the food made her happy like it would a hungry child. Although the ham steak topped with a poached egg and side of peas looked awful from where he sat.

"I finished reading _Dracula_ today," she told him excitedly, and went on to tell him all about it, babbling in a way he was entirely unfamiliar with. Unsure of what to say, he kept quiet, only spoke when she asked him questions, and did his best to keep his eyes above her neck.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Aren't you going to eat?"

He glanced at Walter, who shrugged. "I'm not hungry," he said. "Besides, I have severe doubts about Walter's cooking skills."

The butler scowled. Alucard chuckled inwardly. Integra didn't notice either as she cut a small piece of her ham steak. "Walter's a good cook, Daddy," she said, holding it out to him on her fork. "Here."

Alucard looked at the offer in front of him and for a moment was unsure of what to do. Walter was standing to the side, but he said nothing. Integra was looking at him, waiting.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" she held the fork closer to him, like a lover would. The way her blue eyes sparkled with innocence was beyond description.

He leaned forward and accept the offering. She smiled and turned back to her plate.

It tasted awful, just as he suspected it would, and chances are it wouldn't sit too well in his stomach later. But as he sat there, the irritable piece of meat grinding against his fangs, all he wanted was for her to do it again, just so he could see her smile.

oOo

After dinner was through, Integra lingered in the library and shortly before bed took a bubble bath, something she was apparently very fond of as a child. Walter took the opportunity to address Alucard again. They stood outside of Integra's bedroom and spoke in hushed whispers.

"I'm going to take care of her work the best I can tonight," the butler told him. "You will need to stay here. Seras will go on patrol with the troops later. When Integra comes out, you will need to say goodnight to her, as Arthur used to do whenever he was home."

Alucard nodded. That shouldn't be too hard.

"Walter?"

The butler straightened and leaned toward the bedroom door. "Yes, Miss Integra. Are you finished with your bath?"

"Where is Marian?"

Seeing the questioning look on Alucard's face, Walter raised a hand to hold off his question. "Marian is away for a while. There is someone else who will take care of you for now."

There was a pause. "OK."

Walter turned to Alucard. "Marian was Integra's personal maid," he explained.

The vampire snickered. "You mean it wasn't you?"

"She's a _woman_, Alucard. She needed another female to tend to her more… personal needs. Marian left the year before Arthur's death. It was really rather fortunate."

"Fortunate?"

There was a sliver of hardness in Walter's eyes. "If she had stayed, she would have just become one more obstacle for Richard to eliminate to get to Integra. Knowing her, she would have defended Integra with her life, and most likely lose it in the process."

It seemed like a subject not to pursue for the moment, but Alucard found himself surprised that he didn't know about someone so close to Integra. "So who did you find to replace her for tonight?"

Walter looked over Alucard's shoulder. He turned around and came face to face with his fledgling. She was wearing a maid's outfit, complete with a white frilly apron and laced socks. The skirt was too short and the top too tight, making her look awkward and just a bit exposed. Alucard had to keep from laughing out loud, as Seras seemed like she'd be more at home on the set of a smut film than in the kitchen.

"This is really uncomfortable, Walter…" she grumbled.

The butler smiled wearily. "I'm sorry, Miss Victoria. But currently there is no one more fitting for this job. We can't let the staff become aware of Integra's condition. It would only cause more trouble than we need."

"I know." She took a deep breath, as if prepping herself for some difficult task. This could be difficult indeed. She was a police girl, not a maid. "OK. What do I have to do?"

"Just take care of her like you would a normal child. Clean up the bathroom a little, chat with her, help her get ready for bed. Since she saw you before, she won't be alarmed by your presence. Just tell her Marian's off visiting family and you're the new maid. When she gets in bed, you can come out. It shouldn't take long. Are you ready?"

Seras grinned and gave him a big thumbs-up. "Yes, sir," she said, and entered the bedroom. Walter closed it behind her and turned to Alucard.

"When she comes out, you will go inside, bid her good night, and come out. Nothing more."

Alucard looked the butler up and down. There was a strange serene calmness to the man, one that he had not expected in such a situation. Then again, there had never been a situation like this before. "You're awfully calm," he remarked. "It's as if you've thought all of this out while everyone is off panicking."

"Is the great No-Life King admitting to panic?"

"Can you honestly say you are not?"

Walter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose I am worried," he said slowly. "Part of me has always wondered what would happen should Integra one day be unable to fulfill her duty and whether I'd be able to take care of her when that happened. But now that it's happening, it doesn't seem so bad. Especially with her like this. If she had been wounded or fallen ill, I would panic more, because I'd be helpless to aid her. But now…" he looked away wistfully. "I can handle this. I did it fifteen years ago, and I can do it now. It's actually rather… nice."

This was a side of Walter Alucard hadn't seen before. When he parted ways with the angel of death many decades ago, the man had been young, quick-tempered, impatient, and hot-headed. There was not a battle he did not rush into headfirst, and no one but Arthur and himself could bring him down to Earth when he was high on the scent of the battlefield. When he emerged from the dungeons, the butler had become old, wise, and hardened with age. He spoke more softly, thought things through, but still retained the edge of a soldier past his prime.

Now, standing outside Integra's bedroom, Alucard noticed for the first time a fatherly glow on the man's face. It was strange, yet fitting. This must be how Walter looked to Integra, he realized, in the years he himself missed.

Some words were spoken inside the door. Seras and Integra were talking. A moment later, the police girl emerged. The two men looked at her questioningly. She flashed them an "OK" sign and a smile.

"All done," she said, sounding quite proud of herself. "Walter?"

"Yes, Miss Victoria?"

"When Miss Integra was little, was she really so… um, so…" She looked down in embarrassment.

"So what?"

"Cute?" she blurted out. Alucard nearly choked on his own spit. Of all the misfit words out there that could be used to describe his master…

Walter didn't seem fazed in the least, which was somehow disturbing. "Why yes," he said. "Believe it or not, she was quite a normal little girl."

"Then when did she turn…" Seras's hands flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry. I don't mean for it to sound so…"

Walter waved her away. "It's alright. I know what you mean. But that's not something you need to worry yourself over. Why don't you get changed and go on patrol? The Geese are probably waiting. I would advice not letting any of them see you in that outfit, particularly Captain Bernadette."

Seeing his logic, Seras rushed off. Alucard watched her fidget with the dress clumsily and made a mental note to encourage her to learn to travel more like a vampire. Walter was gesturing to him.

"Say goodnight, and come out," the butler said firmly. "Smile."

"This is like a bad skit," Alucard muttered. Walter tossed him a glare, which Alucard ignored.

Integra's bedroom was the same as the night before, but when he entered this time, something felt different. Very different. The atmosphere was warm, and one of the lamps by the bed was on. Instead of folded neatly on a chair nearby, Seras' sundress was hanging off one of the bedposts. There was also a book on one of the pillows. The air was filled with the smell of soap bubbles and lilacs.

The room was, for lack of a better word, comforting, a stark contrast from the steely environment Integra usually surrounded herself with.

His master was sitting on the bed, her legs under the covers. She was wearing her usual pajamas, but tonight, instead of looking bulky and burdensome, it draped over her form, conveniently highlighting the gentle curves of her chest and back. Her glasses were sitting on the nightstand, and her eyes had never looked so blue.

"Good night, Daddy," she said to him. He had to shake himself to tear his eyes from her.

"Good night," he said with the best, most natural smile he could manage. "I'll see you in the morning."

He started to leave, but she called "wait!" just as he began to step out the door. He turned just in time to see her pull her long legs out from under the covers. She wasn't wearing any pajama pants. As she bounded to him, he could see teasing peeks of her underwear just under the shirttails. She put her hands lightly on his chest and stood on tip-toes.

Then she kissed him.

It was a light peck on the lips, gentle and innocent, the kind little girls give their fathers. It was over in less than a second and Integra returned to bed happily.

Alucard stood where he was. The lingering touch of her lips still on his. It was so soft, and so warm. The shock on his face must have been noticeable, because Integra was looking at him questioningly. He cleared his throat, turned around quickly, and exited. Walter was waiting.

"How did it go?"

"Fine," he said quickly, the sensation of her lips melting away, all too soon. "Just fine."


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: sorry for the delay. Also sorry for any atrocious grammar/spelling mistakes.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 4

It took less than twenty minutes for her to fall asleep. Minds unburdened found rest much easier. Alucard emerged in her room and moved soundlessly to her bed. Two days in a roll. That's a first.

She was sleeping on her back, neck craned to the side. One of her arms was extended to one side almost off the bed, the other was curled around her head. It was a relaxed pose, that of a worry-free child. He gazed down at her. Her covers had been pulled down to her waist. She laid there with the forms of her hips and breasts molded in the veil of the nightshirt, her breath rose calm and hot. As long as he'd known her, she had never slept like this. Every night she either tossed and turned with nightmares that he could hear all the way down in the dungeons, or slept on her side still as a log, as if dead. Alucard felt a twinge of regret that he would soon have to take this small pleasure away from her. In the one day she's spent as a child, he saw a side of her he truly treasured, one that was free and happy, without the weight of the world piled on her shoulders.

He leaned close to her. Her skin radiated heat like the sun. "I'm sorry," he whispered, both for bringing condition on her, and for having to take it away. Then he lingered for a moment, breathing in her presence, before entering her mind again.

Nothing.

He blinked in surprise and tried again, concentrating harder this time, prying carefully but forcefully at her mental barrier.

Still nothing.

Suddenly he was very worried. Alucard straightened, cleared his mind, and focused his energy at Integra. Something bounced back at him. It was like running head-first into a brick wall. There was no entrance, not even a seam or crack. Her mind was completely closed off to him.

He stared at her in shock. She was still sleeping. Perhaps sensing his attempt, she stirred slightly, but did not wake. Her slumbering mind reinforced its barrier and kept him tightly locked out. Every time he tried, she only shut him out more. Her young mind was stronger than anything he'd ever encountered. Any further attempts felt like throwing pebbles at a bank safe.

Alucard ran a hand through his hair.

Yes, someone was _definitely_ going to be in a lot of trouble.

oOo

For a little while everything was OK.

It was luck. Pure luck. In Hellsing's business, luck was in short supply. Usually, something that could go wrong would go wrong, and the director would take the brunt of the blame with silence and dignity.

This time, however, luck was on their side. For a few days, no major crisis happened. There was no mass murder, no major uprising, and even the Convention members were lax on their visits. To put it simply, no one thought to question the mental health of the Hellsing director. And so, she went on whiling her days away in the library, reading and chatting with Walter and Seras, and slept well at night.

It was almost as if, by maintaining a pure, innocent state of mind, she had turned Lady Luck onto her side.

And so nothing went wrong for a few days save for, of course, the obvious problem.

Walter kept his guard up and all times, watching Integra from the shadows around the clock, making sure no one drew too close to her to find out the truth. Seras kept up her charade as the maid and was doing a surprisingly good job of it. Though unspoken, when they looked in each other's eyes, they mutually understood that, secretly, they enjoyed this.

Alucard had more pressing things on his mind, but more importantly, pretending to be Arthur was beginning to prove draining. He had to watch his appearance at all times, not to mention quickly shifting back every time a maid or soldier was nearby.

But it was worth it.

Because they all noticed the same thing: when she smiled, she lit up the entire mansion.

The peace only lasted for a little while, however. It was four days since Integra's transformation that a certain Wild Geese Captain decided on a particularly slow day he ought to surprise the "boss lady" with a visit.

It was, as far as the rest of household was concerned, just another morning. Pip strolled along the mansion halls, humming a little tune whose lyrics would most likely cause the nearest female to clock him with a frying pan were he to sing it. It was rather rare that he ventured to the upper floors of the mansion. For one, there was usually no reason to, and two, the old butler seemed to be a particular stickler about keeping him away from the younger maids. He hasn't the faintest clue why.

In the last few days, however, it seems the butler had other things on his mind. The same went for the resident alpha vampire, which meant he could stroll along and hum without worrying about any hidden boogies popping out at him. Of course that didn't mean he was about to let his guard down. The elder vampire had a particularly malevolent sense of humor.

But it seemed that he needn't worry, as he reached the boss's office without incident. It was a dull morning, he figured. Even the ice queen might appreciate a little chat every now and then.

He pushed open the door and, at the last minute, remembered that he was a gentleman and removed his hat.

"Good morning, Sir…"

For a second he thought she wasn't there. The thick curtains were drawn back, bathing the entire office in sunlight. In the entire three times he'd been in this room before, it had been dark as a hole, almost cavernous. He'd expected the walls to echo if he spoke too loud. But now, with the floor and furniture showered in light, it looked almost… inviting.

There was a woman standing to one side. At first his mind couldn't comprehend that she was Sir Hellsing. After all, he'd never quite thought of her as a woman, not the way he thought of most women, Seras Victoria included.

But then she turned to him, and he saw that it was indeed Integra Hellsing. She was standing in front of a portrait on the wall. Of her father, if he remembered correctly. Her hands were linked behind her back and her hair was swept away from her face. Her feet were bare and instead of her suit, she was wearing a robin egg-blue spaghetti-strap dress that ended just above her knees. Judging by the way it hugged her body, it was made of silk.

There were times when Pip had been in intense combat, when death stared him in the face and told cruel jokes, when there were bullets whizzing by his ear, when he bled and bled and kept on running. Never once in those times did he drop or dirty his hat. It was part of him, part of his identity.

He didn't even notice it hit the floor.

She looked at him in confusion, as if she didn't know who he was. He couldn't take his eyes off her. For the first time since his arriving at Hellsing, he was intensely aware that she was a member if the fairer sex.

Those legs… those curves… those…

A strong hand grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him away from the door. He struggled just long enough to pick up his hat.

oOo

The little girl saw the red-haired man briefly. She didn't know him, or at least was pretty sure he didn't. But before she could ask, he was gone. Backed out of the room in quite a hurry. But that was alright. He was probably a friend of her father, in which case he'll be back later. She turned back to the portrait again.

It wasn't a good portrait, she had decided. It made her father look old. Older than he was now. And when was this painted anyway? She never noticed it on this wall before, and usually spent plenty of time in this office. And no only that, everything looked different. The office seemed smaller than she remembered, and the chair across from his desk, where she usual sat for her lessons with him, was gone. His favorite silver paperweight was nowhere in sight, and neither was his old ashtray.

At least his cigars were still on the corner of the desk. The same brand he always smoked. For some reason, in her young mind, that was the only important thing.

He wasn't here today. She went to the window and pulled the drapes apart. Down below, the troops were running a short drill. With her nose pressed against the glass, she could see them running about. Will she command them one day? She couldn't imagine herself doing such a thing. She was no commander. She was just a little girl.

"Miss Integra?"

She turned to see Walter at the door.

"What are you doing in here?"

She hesitated. She wasn't sure. Even though she knew Daddy wasn't in here, she had somehow found herself in, as if out of habit. She had been in here for several hours, looking and touching at everything that felt both foreign and familiar at the same time.

"I think I'm looking for something," she muttered, so softly that Walter didn't hear.

"I beg your pardon?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

As she followed Walter out of the office, she couldn't help but look back at the empty office, then at the hall, at everything. There was something missing. Something that belonged to her that was out of reach, but she couldn't for the life of her remember what it was.

_I think I've forgotten something important._

But the thought didn't last long. When you are eight, such thoughts are fleeting, and so it was quickly forgotten as the warm sunlight caressed her skin through the vast hall windows.

oOo

Seras dragged Pip down the mansion's stairs by the collar, ignoring his choked gasps and muffled protests. He was probably being choked half to death. For all she knew, his face was turning blue. But at the moment, she couldn't care less. If he didn't deserve it for snooping, he probably deserved it for something.

Finally, as they reached the first floor, Pip managed to yank himself out of her grasp. He put his hat back on his head and took a deep breath as Seras glared at him. He coughed, catching his breath.

"That was mean of you, police girl," he grumbled. "Whatever did I do to deserve such manhandling?" He winked at her with his good eye. "Although, if rough if how you like it…"

"You're not allowed into Miss Integra's office!" Seras snapped, ignoring his lewd comment but filing it away for future punishment.

Pip rolled his eyes. "Oh come now, I didn't mean any harm. If the boss lady didn't want me there she would've tossed me out herself. But boy," he rubbed his chin mischievously and smiled, "that was a surprise. Who knew the Steel Maiden wore anything but those stuffy suits?"

Seras crossed her arms. "What did you see?" she demanded.

"Less than I'd have liked, thanks to you." Pip's eyes wandered upward in wonderment. "I'd never have imagined the infamous Lady Hellsing was hiding all of that under those suits. Those legs just kept on going, you know… and her…"

He paused, glancing at Seras teasingly. The police girl's cheeks were turning a soft peach, more than visible against her pale complexion. "Oh my," he teased, "could it be you are jealous?" He threw an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, at such an angle that her right breast was pressed conveniently against his chest. "Don't worry, mignonette. You're the only one for me. Miss Integra's one fine lady, but she's got nothing on you. If you're not convinced, you just put on that little maid's outfit I saw you running around in that one day, hike it up a couple of inches, and…"

A few minutes later, Walter would come across Pip sprawled out on the floor, one side of face swollen like a peach, muttering something about feather dusters to himself. The butler would stop, wonder briefly, shake his head, and keep on walking.


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is my favorite chapter so far.

Chapter 4

Alucard sat on Integra's four-post bed.

It was a surprisingly comfortable bed. Until now, he had never had the privilege of sitting or lying on it. Not that he had never wondered what it would feel like. Not just to sit or lay on it, but to do it in his master's company, when she'd be weary from the day and in need of a comforting embrace. Although, even _he_ knew that the embrace of a vampire was probably not the most soothing experience in the world. But he could dream, and in his dreams, in her bed, what took place was more than embracing. The thought brought waves of summer heat to his cold body.

Unfortunately, he could not enjoy what was in front of him. Not now. Not like this. As he sat on the bed in Arthur's form, Integra was less than twenty feet away, fritting about in her closet, clad in only the gray pajama shirt and underpants.

For the last few days, he had more than enjoyed seeing this side of her. So carefree, so uninhibited. For the first time there was no worry on her face. Her steps were lighter, and her laughter loud and bright.

It was almost shocking to see that his master was capable of being happy. He had thought life had robbed her of that long ago. And it got him thinking, that perhaps this was what she meant by not dwelling on the past, perhaps thinking of the happiness she lost made it that much harder to face reality. If that was the case, he found it awfully hard to blame her.

"Daddy?"

He shook his head and looked up at her. She was gazing at him curiously. He must have looked distant, lost in thought. He gave her his best fatherly smile.

"Yes, Integra?"

"Did Walter ever find my clothes?"

Finding her a new wardrobe had proved difficult, as she no longer recognized her usual suits as hers. In a rush, Walter had borrowed a few pieces from Seras and ran out to town to obtain more. But it was obvious that she could only be fooled for so long before she would begin to realize that something was off. Alucard hoped against all hope that he could find a way to bring her back before then.

It baffled and worried him greatly that her mind had been sealed off to him, tighter than a bank vault. He didn't want to contemplate the consequences if he could not bring her back.

Admittedly, there was a part of him that whispered another possibility: the fall of Hellsing. If Integra Hellsing were to be incapacitated, Hellsing would be left without a director and no heir. Walter would only be around for so long, and eventually the secret had to come out. If this were to happen, for him, the vampire slave of Hellsing, it would mean… freedom.

"I don't want to wear this old shirt anymore." Integra was grumbling as she reached into the stacks of clothes in the closet. "It's so uncomfortable. But I can't find my pajamas anywhere."

He watched her. It was hard to look away, for even in simple garbs, she was astonishing. But if he were to leave, this would be as good a time as any. She could not order him to stay. She wouldn't know how to.

"Maybe this one." She pulled out a hanger from the back of the closet, on it hung a lavender-colored tank top. It looked as if it would fit, too. Alucard was surprised. He hadn't thought his master would own such a piece of clothing.

Setting the top aside, she began to unbutton the pajama shirt. Alucard kept watching, but at the last second common sense hit him and he looked away, though not fast enough to notice that she was not wearing a brassier or undershirt. Of course she wouldn't. She was eight years old. In her mind, she was probably still skinny and flat. If he had a living heart, it would pound right now.

"You can look now, Daddy."

He felt a slight quiver of the mattress as she hopped onto the bed, dressed in the well-fitted tank top and white underpants. She was looking at him, her legs curled underneath her. Remembering his place as a servant, he kept his gaze on her eyes and nowhere else.

Servant… not for long, perhaps?

"Are you going away again soon, Daddy?"

The question startled him. It was as if she had read his mind. As she looked into his eyes earnestly, he searched for an answer.

"You're always going away. You're never home anymore." She wrapped a warm hand over his and scooted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. It was a feeling like nothing else. "Will you stay longer this time?"

Alucard stroked her hand as she leaned against him. The way they sat was almost like a pair of lovers. The night was cool and quiet.

"I will," he said at last. "I'll stay as long as I can."

_I can't leave._

Her face lit up. Bouncing on the bed happily, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Her hair gave off the scent of gunpowder and lilacs. It made him shiver.

"I'm so glad, Daddy!"

So as to not rouse suspicion, he closed his arms around her and hugged her back. Her body was firm and supple, and her face felt almost unbearably hot against his. He buried his nose in her hair and drew a deep breath. She didn't pull away.

He kissed her neck.

She giggled.

_I can't leave you._

He held her tightly and kissed her neck again, then her shoulder. The strap of the tank top slid off her shoulder onto her arm, exposing the top of her right breast. He dipped his neck downward and ran his tongue over the soft skin of her chest. It tasted like the nectar of the heavens, the heaven he had given up for eternal life.

She gasped and started struggle. He held on tighter.

Heat rolled through his body like thunder as he kissed her all over. Her cheek, her lips, her neck, her ears. He licked her skin, tasted her body, drowning in the ecstasy of it all. His senses were filled with her – her flavor, her softness, the sound of her breathing, the sight of her flawless body, even the scent of blood running under her skin.

At some point she began to push him away. Lost in his elation, he laid her down and held her there.

"Daddy, no…"

He reached under the top and caressed her curves.

"No, stop it…"

His hand ran across her hips, down her strong legs. Her clothes suddenly seemed like an obstacle, a barrier between him and all that is her.

"Daddy, stop! Please!"

Her cry, accompanied by the sharp tear of fabric, suddenly shot reality through his brain like an arrow. The fog in front of his eyes cleared away as he looked down.

Integra laid on her back, her face wracked with fear as she looked up at him, that warm, trusting gaze gone. Her hair was a mess from the struggle, and her neck and chest were covered with red marks from his fangs. With shock, Alucard realized he was still holding one of her wrists in his hand, pushing it down against the sheets. He quickly released it and saw with horror and shame that her skin had turned beet-red from his grip.

Slowly, she sat up and shielded her chest with her arms, where her top had been torn down the front, a crooked gash nearly to her navel.

Then, she began to cry.

Tears streamed down her face in rivers as she hugged herself tightly. Alucard stood by the bed in shock, unable to figure out what to do next except look at her. Her bruised wrist, the red marks on her body, her puffy, pitiful eyes…

And he felt the slow gnaw of loathing inside him. He loathed himself.

He wanted to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness, but she wouldn't look at him. Every time he tried to move a little closer she flinched as if shocked by electricity. He didn't know how to comfort her, how to express how much he hated himself at the moment. Long moments passed as the stood there, watching, listening to her cry and awkwardly wipe her face and cover herself at the same time. Finally, he turned around and left the room.

Before he closed the door behind him, she spoke, and what she said disturbed him to the very core of his being.

"That's what they did, Daddy," she whispered through her sobs, "that's what _they_ did."


	6. Chapter 6

CH. 6

He couldn't bring himself to face her for the next three days. It was rather difficult to do as Walter hounded him constantly about why he wasn't at Integra's beck and call, but it was not as bad as it could have been. After the night's incident, Integra did not request his company as often anymore.

Strangely, she did not speak of the incident to anyone else. Though that had been his primary concern at first, it quickly became obvious that no one in the house knew of what took place that night. If Walter knew, he was certain the butler would have lynched him on the spot. But a day passed, then another, nothing seemed to have changed.

In face, Integra seemed to be her bubbly eight-year-old self again. She chatted happily, continued with her lessons, and seemed to have forgotten all about it. As Alucard watched her from the shadows, it seemed she wasn't even thinking about it at all, nor did it affect her actions in any way. It was very strange indeed, though he was more than relieved.

He was ashamed of himself. Not only had he lost control but in the process he had wounded the one person who trusted him unconditionally since day one. His actions had only proven that all those who call vampires "senseless animals" were right beyond a doubt. He had acted like nothing more than a lowly animal.

He couldn't take on Arthur's form again; it didn't seem right. Almost like blasphemy. And so he did his best to stay away and attempt to figure out some course of action to reawaken her sleeping memories.

This was alright. For a little while this was alright, until trouble hit once more in the dead of night. When he strolled the mansion's perimeters, deep in thought, was when her scream pierced the air.

It was nothing like he'd ever heard before. At first he thought it was a cat, or some lost lamenting spirit, but when it came a second time he recognized it beyond a doubt. His eyes snapped to the floor of the building.

His master was screaming bloody murder.

Instinct dragged him toward her, traveling up the walls, the alarm inside him raising higher by the moment. It wasn't until he was almost at her door that he realized she wouldn't recognize him. Holding his body and mind in tight control, he molded his body and face into that of Arthur's.

Her door was ajar. Fearing an intruder, he pushed it open and readied himself to wreak havoc upon whoever was bringing harm to his master.

Walter glanced at him, and went back to soothing the young woman in his arms.

He was sitting on the bed, her face buried in his shoulder. Alucard couldn't see her eyes, as her hands covered them tightly, as if trying to shield them away from whatever horrific sight was in her mind. The butler brushed her long hair aside and held her, rocking her like a grandfather coaxing his grandchild out of a nightmare.

Integra had stopped screaming. Her shivering body looked pale and weak in the moonlight as Walter held her. She was crying. Whatever it was she had seen in her dreams had made her cry.

Just like he did.

Alucard resisted the urge to tear off his own arm.

"Arthur."

Walter had spoken. The vampire looked up.

"Please go inform the household staff there is nothing to worry about."

He understood the butler's meaning clearly. Turning around and hurrying down the hall, he came across the first maid quickly, with a look of concern on her face. He blew a fog over the woman's mind and sent her back to bed. The task was done repeatedly, until every person who had awakened was sent away. Upon his return to Integra's room, he saw Walter standing outside. The door had been closed behind him.

"Is she…"

Walter nodded. "She's fine." He adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit. "This is quite a quandry. I had so hoped that…" He looked at Alucard, and instead of finishing his sentence, coughed awkwardly.

"Hoped what?" Alucard pressed, Arthur's face falling away to his own. "What happened, Walter?"

The butler shook his head. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." He began to leave, but Alucard blocked his path.

"You can't expect me to let you walk away like this. What did she tell you?"

Walter arced a brow. "Tell me? Nothing."

"Then what happened? You can't tell me she had screamed like that for nothing."

Walter's eyes suddenly hardened. It was the same look he used to give his enemies on the battlefield before a showdown, a look of unyielding rigidity. "You were absent from this house for over two decades, Alucard," he said. "You do not know of many things that happened in this house, and nor do you need to know. And Integra…" he sighed, "you don't know everything about her."

Those words, somehow, made the No-Life King afraid. It had been eons since he had felt fear, but he felt it tugging now. There was something very wrong about this. About everything. But as he could not think of the next question, Walter took his silence as concession. As the butler walked away, he heard the man mutter under his breath, "I hoped she wouldn't remember… how I hoped."

oOo

When morning rolled around, Alucard did not retire, although for the last week or so it had become routine. Sleep was secondary at this point. Although he was beginning to feel the drain on his body from lack of rest, he couldn't bring himself to his coffin. Not yet.

He adjusted the collar of his suit and hoped he looked presentable.

He had to face Integra sooner or later, and what conscious he had left after nearly six centuries would not allow him to take the form of her father again. But he had to speak with her, had to find out what it was he had missed during the years he spent in the dungeons. It was a can of worms he had opened without even knowing of its existence, and he felt it was his responsibility now to see it through. In addition, it may hold the clue as to their mental disconnection.

He sleeked his hair back. It felt strange, so he tousled it loose again. The black suit felt somewhat restricting after all those years in his spacious coat. But comfort wasn't important right now. He had to look "human".

Straightening his clothes one last time, he headed upward via the walls and to her office. The door was open. He pushed it apart, half expecting her not to be there, but to still be rolled up in her sheets, hiding from the terrors of the previous night.

But Integra was there. Sitting cross-legged on the broad desk, she was playing with the onyx paperweight she usually used for loose documents. Her skirt was hiked up to her thigh and he had to force himself not to look at her exposed underpants. She looked up as he entered. Out of habit, he bowed.

"Good morning, Miss Integra."

She tilted her head and regarded him in curiosity. There was no fear nor tears on her face. Once again, it seemed as if she had completely forgotten about the previous night's unpleasantness. "Hello," she said, hopping off the desk and smoothing her skirt.

There was nothing to do except cut to the chase. Alucard hoped he could play the role well. "I am a friend of your father's," he said, as sincerely as he could manage. "Is he around?"

She shook her head. "Daddy hasn't been around for a couple of days. I think he's away on a trip. He's always away."

Alucard nodded. She was scrutinizing him with childish intensity, looking at him very closely. Did some part of her recognize him? For a moment he thought maybe she did, but then she smiled.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon," she said. Rounding the desk, she went to the large leather chair and sat down on it, drawing her knees up to her chin. "He said he was going to stay with me longer this time, but I knew he couldn't. He's very busy. Maybe next time he'll stay longer."

Alucard went to the desk and leaned against it. It was almost like old times, the two of them speaking in her office. He hadn't realized that he'd been missing it.

"Your father told me a lot about you."

"Did he?" she shrugged. "He's never mentioned you. What's your name?"

At first he considered giving her a fake name, but there seemed to be no point to it. She wouldn't recognize it either way. "Alucard."

"OK. It's nice to meet you, Mister Alucard."

He chuckled. It sounded so odd for her to address him in such a way. "Not mister," he said. "Just Alucard will do fine."

"But Daddy and Walter always said it's polite to call gentlemen 'mister'."

"Let's just say I'm not much of a gentleman."

She seemed to think about this for a moment. "Alright," she said, "Alucard. Would you like to see Walter? He can probably help you before Daddy comes home."

Walter was not around, and for that he was glad. He wasn't sure how he'd explain his presence if the butler was here. He shook his head. "No, Integra. I think I'd rather talk with you. Your father tells me you are a very smart girl."

She blushed lightly. The soft shade of rose gave her cheeks a gentle glow. "I'm alright, I suppose."

"He also tells me you are very beautiful." He wanted to reach out and stroke her chin, but the servant part of him still saw his master, and held back. "And he's right."

At that, she merely shrugged. "Do you talk to my Daddy a lot?"

"More often than you'd think." He paused. "Less often than I'd like. But he told me something, Integra, before he… left."

"What's that?"

It was a bit more difficult than he'd expected, but Alucard did his best. Casual was key. There was no point in making this more uncomfortable than it already was. Although Integra seemed perfect at ease. "He wanted to tell you he's sorry. About…"

She shook her head hard, her hair flying out in all directions. "It's OK," she said firmly. "Tell him it's OK."

Before he could get over his surprise, she had climbed onto the desk next to him, her long legs dangling off the edge. Leaning close, she looked him straight in the eyes.

"Will you ask Daddy to come home?" she whispered like a child sharing a secret. "Is that why he's gone again? Please tell him I'm not mad. It's OK that he… did that. He won't do it again. I know he won't. And I forgive him. I will forgive _him._"

The way she emphasized the last word made him think of her last words from that night. He mimicked her posture and leaned in. "Who will you _not _forgive, Integra?"

It was like watching a shield being thrown up. Her face suddenly turned blank as she pulled back. She blinked at him and shrugged. Thunder rumbled overhead.

"I don't know," she said nonchalantly, and hopped off the desk. For some reason, he knew she wasn't lying. "I don't know why I said that." He watched her go to the window and press her nose against it, looking up at the gathering rain clouds.

"I want to go outside."

"But it's about to rain."

She nodded. "I know. But I want to go outside. I love the rain. I haven't been outside in ages. Walter won't let me out. I don't know why."

This was true. Ever since her condition had been discovered, Walter had been extra diligent in keeping her out of the public eye, restricting access to the upper level of the mansion to Alucard, Seras, and himself. As his master gazed to the outside world with longing eyes, Alucard stood.

"Alright," he said. "What if I take you outside?"

She spun around in surprise. Common sense told him this was a mistake, but he stepped forward and took her hand anyway, as gently as he could. "Close your eyes."

She did as she was told, and he took her outside, upward, to the roof of the mansion. The heavens opened up and rained upon the Earth as they emerged.

The delight in her eyes as she opened them was beyond description. She laughed as the raindrops hit her face, soaking through her dress. Though her mind didn't know it at the moment, it has been many years since she played in the storm, mud on her feet and rain in her hair, her sight blurry from the water hanging on her glasses.

Alucard stood to the side and watched her play. At some point she ran to him and grabbed both of his hands in hers, and pulled him into the rain with her. He let her. He ran with her. An when she laughed, he looked at her glowing face, hardly noticing the wet dress clinging to her body.

Eventually, he wrapped his arms around her and took her back down into the mansion, where Walter scolded them both severely and gave him murderous looks for taking her outside. It was a dangerous mistake, the butler said, and he heartily agreed.

But Integra still held onto his hand and giggled, as if it had been their own private joke.


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: sorry it took so long. I'll try to update more regularly. Enjoy!

CH. 7

Convincing Walter to let him say goodnight to Integra was a bit of a challenge after that, and if he hadn't been in such a cheery mood after their frolic that afternoon, Alucard might have given up after the second malicious glare the butler gave him. Or the third. Or the fourth. But alas, Walter yielded and warned him quite clearly that tomorrow, he had some serious explaining to do.

Integra was waiting for him; he could tell by the way she sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes fixated on the door as he walked in. She was wearing long pajama pants this time, being more careful around men other than her father.

"Evening, Alucard."

For a moment she sounded just like her old self, but that airy smile on her face ruined the image from his memories. He began to bow out of habit, but stopped himself, and gave her a nod and a smile instead.

"I thought I'd big you goodnight, Miss Integra."

"That's nice of you," she said, rocking slightly on the mattress. He approached the bed and sat on the edge, keeping his distance, but she moved closer, sitting mere inches away. "Will you tell me how you did it?"

"Did what?"

"Take me to the roof. I've never been on the roof before."

He knew that was false, but in her mind, at that age, it probably held true. He had already prepared for this question, and frankly thought the answer he had ready was quite a brilliant one.

"Tell your father to explain that when he returns."

"He knows how?"

"He does."

Her eyes were searching him. Accustomed to being the more observant one of the two, Alucard felt oddly exposed under her bright eyes. What was she looking for? He was willing to wager that even she herself didn't know. Perhaps the reason for their familiarity. He cleared his throat.

"Good night," he said.

"Good night."

She reached around his neck and gave him a quick embrace. It was like a key inserting into a lock.

He could almost hear the mental "click" as her mind opened up once more to him.

oOo

He walked her mindscape for the second time.

It was a completely different sight from his last visit. Instead of barren lands and chilly wind, it was now filled with color and life. The majority of the space was filled with soft white sand, and creatures in all shapes and sizes played. They were strange-looking, oddly colored, and their shape was indefinite, as if their creator kept changing her mind. The vast warm desert stretched as far as his eyes could see.

As he passed them, the friendly-looking creatures would stop playing and regard him in curiosity and more than a little hostility. Of course. He was not part of this world. He was foreign. At eight years old, her mind had no space for him.

A six-legged urchin made a lunge at him. He batted it away, taking care not to harm it. It was them, he was sure, these little thoughts of childhood, that kept him at bay before. They were stronger than they looked, locking her mind tight as a safe to prevent his entry. But now that she had accepted his presence once more, their power has been diminished.

In the center of the desert, he found the oasis.

However, that was not the right word. An oasis implied a relief from desperation, a place with clear water and palm trees, a refuge from the hopeless. The little patch of land he approached was just the opposite. Even before he set foot within its boundaries, he could feel its chill in his dead bones.

The little girl standing in its center looked up at him. She was wearing the same pair of wire-rim glasses from their last encounter.

"Hi," she said, waving. He gave her a polite nod. Then, looking around, he realized the biggest change of all.

"What happened to the doors?" he asked. In the vast desert, not a single door could be seen. All of Integra's memories, good and bad, had vanished.

Well, that was not entirely true. Behind the girl's back was a single door, standing ajar on the small patch of gray land.

"They're buried," the child Integra replied, pointing to the little creatures. "My friends helped."

"You buried them under the sand?"

She nodded affirmative, grinning widely. "They were so unpleasant. Isn't it so much prettier now?"

A two-headed yellow chick strutted over and pecked at Alucard's boot. He kicked it aside. "Charming." He gestured at the lone door. "What about that one?"

Her smile melted away. A soft shadow fell over her face as she looked away, as if attempting to physically dodge the question. "I'm not looking at it."

He arched a brow. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm not looking at it." She stamped her right foot on the ground, as if planting herself firmly, with her back to the door. Silence suddenly fell over the landscape as the little creatures ceased their fluttering and turned their attention to the anti-oasis. A gentle whisper of voices drifted from the door.

_…do one or the other…_

Alucard took a step closer. He expected her to stop him, but she didn't. Instead, she continued to stand there, head down, as he walked past her to the door and pushed it open a wink further. The voices grew.

_…then just do one or the other…_

She let out a shrill shriek and covered her eyes as the door swung open.

oOo

Integra frowned in her sleep. She was dreaming. There were people and voices everywhere. Some she knew, some she didn't, and none of them would stop talking. She wanted to scream, yell at them to leave her alone, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

Then there were faces. She was so confused. One minute she was in a crib, playing with a colorful block and wondering when her mother was going to appear overhead. The next she was sitting at a long table, with eleven men watching her, waiting for her to speak, to make some decision. But she couldn't remember what decision she was supposed to make, or why she was supposed to make it.

Cold sweat gathered on her brow.


	8. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK this is also a short chapter, but it covers what everyone's waiting to find out so... yea. I see that FFN has put up a poll thing and I think that's cool, so I'm gonna start putting up all sorts of polls 'cause I love polls. Yay! Please read and enjoy and review and vote and all that good stuff.

CH. 8

He was sitting in a car.

Looking down, he saw two white little hands, neatly folded in a lap not his own. There was a person in the front seat, wearing a navy blue uniform, another man in a black suit in the passenger seat. He was in the back, along with someone he had once meet in passing, before the other's all-too-timely death.

He tried to move the hands. They did not bend to his will. He tried wiggling the toes, they did not respond. This body was not his. He could only watch.

"Where are we going, uncle Richard?"

The man with the greasy mustache and over-gelled hair took a puff of his cigarette. He felt a sense of loathing. She hated the smell of cigarettes. The man in the front passenger seat glanced back briefly. She didn't know him. She knew the driver and her uncle. She liked the driver better. He was an older gentleman with silver hair, and had been with the family for many years. He was good to her.

"Somewhere fun," said Richard. She also didn't like being talked down to. "What's the matter, Integra? You don't like to have fun?"

He was provoking her to say something disrespectful. That would be grounds for justified punishment. But she kept her mouth clamped shut because she did not want to give him the satisfaction. She did not understand why her father always thought so highly of his brother. Her father trusted her uncle, he believed her uncle would take care of her, he loved her uncle. She did not. No more words were said for several minutes.

Turning to the window, she looked out at the passing trees, standing silent under the sun. It was a lovely day, despite the undesirable company. She pressed her nose against the glass and looked out.

There was a movement. She turned around. A gasp escaped her lips when she saw the barrel of the gun pointed at the old driver. But before she could comprehend the situation, a wet handkerchief was pressed to her face. The smell of chemicals overwhelmed her senses and the world blurred.

Alucard remained in the depth of Integra's mind. He tried to move, but again there was nothing. There was movement, voices, but too faint to distinguish. For a moment it sounded like a heated argument was taking place. The old driver was yelling at someone. Then there was a muffled "bang".

Silence.

She was losing consciousness, losing her senses. A bag was thrown over her head and there was only darkness. He felt a tear roll down her cheek as the faint realization of her friend's death dawned on her.

He waited.

Then he waited a little more.

Then he began to feel her body once more. It was tingling, numb. She moved her legs and hit something hard. A chair leg. A metal chair underneath her body. She wasn't tied up, but she couldn't move much either. The air smelled like dust and mothballs. Her mouth opened. Her tongue was dry and her throat scratchy. She couldn't make a sound. The bag was gone. She was now blindfolded.

Trying with all her might, she lifted her head a little. Alucard wished he could help, but of course it did no good. Someone was talking. Her ears perked up. There were three distinct voices.

"…get paid?"

"Patience." She knew that voice. Her ears perked up. Against all common sense she hoped he would save her. They were still family after all… right? "You'll get your money after you finish up here."

There was a dry laugh, as if someone told a mediocre joke. "You can't be serious," a heavily-accented voice said. It sounded Swedish. She didn't know anyone Swedish. "We grabbed the girl for you, even offed that old guy. But taking and killing a girl that young? That's a little out of my jurisdiction. I like my women grown."

Taking?

She shivered.

Her uncle snorted derisively. "Then just do one or the other," he spat.

The third man spoke up. He had a loud, guttural voice. "I got no problem with it," he said. "I don't mind'em young."

"Good," Richard said simply. "And do me a favor," he added acidly…

She didn't catch the rest of the sentence. Footsteps moved closer toward her. She wanted to run, but whatever it was in her systems was keeping her from moving much. They were closer now, she made a desperate lurch to the side and fell off the chair, her hand landing in a puddle of sticky substance she was perfectly happy not seeing.

A rough hand seized her hair, pulling her to her feet like a ragdoll. Another struck her across the face. She stumbled, but the hand in her hair kept her up. Another strike. She tasted blood. One of her teeth threatened to rattle loose.

Then there was smoke, cigarette smoke, very close by. Her nose quivered and she managed a light cough that nearly made her gag. Her hands flailed pathetically in midair, searching for something, anything, any protection or aid. But nothing came. The only thing that greeted her was a spot of searing pain at the base of her neck.

Cigarette smoke.

Burned skin.

Charred flesh.

She wanted to scream as the cigarette tip pressed harder against her, but could only let out a dry croak. There was laughter, from the other two men, one of which didn't want to "take" or kill her, but still found her pain to be quite hilarious.

When that was finally done, she heard her uncle stepped back, take a puff from the cigarette that had just permanently marked his only niece, and said, "Get on with it."

Her skirt was lifted up.

Alucard struggled to gain some form of control.

A meaty hand against her thigh.

Nothing. He could do nothing, just as she could do nothing. Suddenly, she spoke.

"Don't look," she said.

And he could see again. He found himself standing outside the door on the patch of gray land. It had grown. The sandy desert was gone, as were its inhabitants. The white sand had turned a pale gray, and a cold wind blew from afar. Grains of sand danced in the air. Here and there, he saw, were buried doors, some half-exposed, others only showing a peek of their corners.

She was still standing there, her back to the door, tears streaming down her face. To his surprise, when she looked up at him, she was smiling, as if completely unaware that she was crying.

"Don't look at what they did to me," she said. "I don't look either. If I don't look at it, it can't hurt me."

His mouth felt dry, his body numb, as he stood before this tiny version of his steel-willed master. He wasn't sure what he was feeling at the moment. Remorse. Sadness. Pain. Hate. It was all collapsing into an indistinguishable pile.

"Did they…"

She shook her head. "No. Someone came a little while later, before they took me." Alucard winced at the word. "Then uncle Richard shot them. He shot the two guys, then he said he was saving me. Daddy was happy. He said he was so relieved his daughter had a protector like his brother."

She wiped her nose with her sleeve. "Why did you have to look?"

He had no answers.

"Why?" she demanded, her voice rising. "I didn't want you to look! I didn't want anyone to look! If no one knows, if no one looked, it can't hurt me!"

Thunder rumbled overhead. Dark clouds gathered and the gray heavens opened up. Stepping forward, Alucard shielded the weeping girl from the downpour with his coat. She didn't notice him nor the rain as it washed away the sand, exposing the buried doors.

"Leave me alone."

He hesitated.

"Leave!" she shouted at him. "I don't want you here anymore!"

Darkness.

Her bedroom.

He steadied himself and looked down at his sleeping master, at the clear, almost perfectly round patch of skin on her neck that he had always assumed was a charming little birthmark.


	9. Chapter 9

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the segment regarding Integra's mother is based on a theory "copyrighted" by Elin-darling.

Enjoy & Review!

CH 9

Walter rose extra early, having found it hard to stay asleep in the wee hours of the morning. At first he contemplated fixing breakfast for Integra, but it was much too early. He considered seeking out Alucard and having a good talk with him about the events that took place yesterday, but the vampire was nowhere to be found. Seras was still out on patrol. In the end, he found himself in Integra's office, drawing back the drapes and allowing dawn to peek inside.

Leaning against the window, the old butler sighed. Weariness wore on him. Despite the amount of danger and stress he'd experienced in this lifetime, his old bones still ached with worry. Just a few rooms away, she slept. Miss Integra Hellsing, his surrogate daughter, the closest he's had and will have to a child of his own. Hell, she's probably even more than that. He couldn't imagine caring for his own children more than he cared for her.

She was young. So young. Too young for the life she led. Young women all over the world lived their lives free of care, dating, learning, having fun. She had been forced to grow up much too early, and she did it without complaining, without a sour word. She took her lot in life and gave it her all. As if that wasn't bad enough, the little innocence she was allowed in life was tainted.

He still remembered that day, when that despicable Richard brought her home.

His fists clenched. He forced them to relax. Richard was gone. He would never lay a hand on her again. He had met his end at the hands of the one he loathed most. It gave Walter a small satisfaction to think of it.

That day, he brought her back. No, more like he dragged her back, one hand clutching the girl's arm like a clamp as she walked beside him, looking dazed and confused. There was dirt on her clothes, blood on her face, and terror in her eyes. And yet, what really let him know something was wrong was the fact that she did not pull away from her uncle, whom she usually did not allow within ten feet of her. When she entered the mansion that day, it was as if she was completely unaware of her surroundings.

And Walter had dashed over to her side, all but shoving Richard out of the way, who seemed all too pleased to be away from his brother's "brat". He walked away, straightening his suit and fixing his hair, ignoring the murderous glare aimed at his back.

He held her in his arms, cleaned her scraped knees, checked her swollen lips and eyes. He asked her what happened, over and over, but she merely stood there as he tended to her, saying nothing. At one point she opened her mouth, but instead of words, she spat out a bloody chipped tooth.

Arthur came later, followed by Richard. He fussed over his daughter, saying over and over praise the lord that Richard was there, that she was safe because her uncle had watched over her. Thank God someone was there to save her.

Thank God for Richard…

Walter gritted his teeth through it all, knowing Richard was looking at him with those smug, dirty eyes. He was not about to contradict his master. He had no proof, and Integra said nothing. The men, whom he was sure was hired by Richard, were dead, shot in the back by their employer.

Integra said nothing for the remainder of the day. She said nothing to Walter, to her father, or to the police. It was as if she was thinking, trying to figure something out for herself. She thought and thought and thought, until night fell and she was tucked into her bed. Arthur said an extra long goodnight to her, and made sure the house was on full alert before retiring for the night. She didn't make a peep.

Then, in the dead of night, she screamed. She screamed and screamed and woke the whole house. When they all gathered around her, however, she did not answer their questions, nor try to seek comfort. Lying with her head buried in the pillows, she wept herself back to sleep.

The next morning, when he went to check on her, she was smiling. Her smile was so sunny, almost unnatural. When asked about the previous days, she merely shrugged.

"Nothing happened, Walter," she said, the right side of her face still slightly swollen.

The bruises faded in a few days. The wounds healed in a few weeks. Her teeth were fitted for veneers by a dentist who was told she took a stray baseball to the face. The only sign left from the ordeal was the shiny round scar on her neck, a souvenir from a cigarette that surely belonged to her uncle, the only person in the house who smoked the Yankee sticks. Walter was certain Integra did not wish to divulge the truth because of the wedge it would drive between her father and his brother. That is, until one day two years later.

"Walter?" she asked, looking into the bathroom mirror as he fixed her hair. "How did I get this scar?"

That was when he realized that she had forgotten. Her mind had locked it up tight, so life could go on. It was the only time in his life he truly felt the urge to shed a tear, for her or anyone else.

Walter gazed out the window at the breaking dawn. This incident had been something of a blessing in disguise, but he had to admit that, had she ever had a chance to relive her childhood, this was the one part he's hoped would be left out.

"Walter?"

Surprised, he spun around. Integra stood at the door. No, more like leaned on it. She was wearing a tank top and pajama pants. She took a step forward, and wobbled as if unsteady on her feet. Alarm rose in the butler's mind as he straightened.

"Miss Integra, what are you doing out of bed so early?"

"I…" she tried walking again, and stumbled. It was almost like watching an amateur walk a tightrope. As he watched, her eyes rolled slightly upward as she tried to stabilize herself with extended arms. "I don't feel good."

His old bones were not quite fast enough to dash across the room as her knees buckled from under her. She struck the floor heavily, blond mane spilling in all directions. When he got to her, she had already tried to get up on her own, but instead wound up vomiting up the previous night's dinner on hands and knees.

oOo

_She was five years old. She had a mother and a father. Her father was carrying her through the library, pointing out various books, as her mother looked on. Her mother was very pretty. She had long black hair, a complete contrast of her father's and her own. Her hair was in pigtails. Her father wanted to read her a book called Dracula._

Walter wiped away the sweat on his forehead and went to re-moisten the rag in his hand. He poured cold water over it, even prepared an ice pack. When he returned to Integra's room, Seras was sitting by the bed. She was holding Integra's arm, not comfortingly, but to keep her from thrashing about and injuring herself. Her red eyes were sick with worry as Walter applied the cold rag to the director's hot forehead and neck once more.

_She was sixteen. She was at a soiree held by one of the members of the Convention. She was too young to be there, but as the head of Hellsing she was obligated. The only other person there close to her age was the grandson of Sir Wellington. He was eighteen, and to him her position was not nearly as important as the curves her conservative dress had failed in hiding. He tried to grope her behind a tall potted plant. She shoved him away and wound up tripping over her own heels. _

Every now and then she spoke, but it was mostly incoherent mumbles. Sometimes, though, she would turn to Seras or Walter, her eyes open and focused as if directly addressing someone she could see, and she would speak as if carrying on a conversation. Once, it was "why is the weapons budget always the one that suffers?" and another "werewolves and vampires are not stories. They're real".

_She was ten. She was looking into the mirror one morning and wondering if she was pretty. _

She sat up. She was awake. She looked at Walter and said clearly, "I'm going to be late for the meeting, Walter. It's my first time. The old men will look down at me if I'm late for the first meeting."

_She was turning twenty-one. There was no celebration, no parties, no fancy dinners, no friends gathered around a birthday cake. In fact, she had forgotten it was her birthday. It was _ _six o'clock__ in the morning and she was at a disturbance site in the suburbs, screaming at a local police chief for being stubborn and not reporting an attack sooner. The man, twice her age and three times her size, looked like he might cry. When she got back to the office that day, someone had left her a rose on her desk._

After many hours, Walter had not succeeded in getting her to keep down any food or water. Movement seemed to result in perpetual vertigo, leading her to vomit up any food or fluids he forced down her throat. At this rate she would starve or dehydrate very soon.

_She was six. Her parents were arguing. They didn't think she could hear, but she could. She sat outside the drawing room on the floor and huddling her knees. Things were changing. She didn't know how or understand why, but she knew her mother was different. Her beautiful mama, suddenly so thin and weary. _

She woke between fitful bouts of sleep, during which she would toss and turn and speak. Sometimes her eyes would open and she would look around as if she knew everything, other times she looked like she knew nothing and no one.

_There were bullets. There were teddy bears. There was happiness. There was sadness. There were tears. There was blood._

Every time she woke up, she said something different, in a different tone, with a different expression on her face. Every time she woke up, she was a different age, doing something different.

_Everything ran together. Everything overlapped. There were vampires in her crib. Her father stood to the side of her knighting ceremony at seventeen. Walter shot at her, trying to overtake Hellsing's directorship. Her uncle had the face of a wolf. She played with a little red-headed girl in the sandbox; the girl had red eyes and a cute smile. And there was someone else. Someone else._

Walter wiped his face again. "Get your master in here," he said to Seras.

_Who is it? Who is it? _

Seras ran. She was quick. Walter held Integra down as she thrashed once more in her sleep. She reached out and clearly clawed the glasses off his face. Alucard entered not long after. The butler looked to him wearily.

"Sorry to disturb your sleep again," he said. "But as you can see, we're having a bit of a crisis."

_Someone was in her life, but her life was a jumble, everything dumped together like a messy pot of soup. Voices and faces went round and round. There was someone she had forgotten, someone important, whose face was a blur. Why? Why was he important and why had she forgotten him?_

"Hold her down," Walter said. "Be gentle. I'm going to try to get some more water down her throat."

Alucard sat down by the bed. As soon as he drew near, however, Integra's hand shot out and seized his coat tightly. Her eyes opened, staring at him with all the intensity in the world.

"I know you," she croaked, tears welling up and spilling over the side of her face. "I know you, right?"

He could only hold her as she cried. Moments later she was asleep again, trapped in the never-ending cycle of nightmares and memories.

oOo

Integra had turned into a ghost.

There was no other way for Alucard to describe her state save for ghostly. Within a few days she had lost a significant amount of weight, so much so that those close to her worried about her health. Her once curvy figure slimmed down, the cotton nightgown Walter had found for her fell off her shoulders. Her hair had lost its luster, hanging limply over her shoulders like dry straw. Her eyes were vacant as she wandered about the bedroom, the only place she dwelled for the last few days. She made no sound, and always seemed lost in thought. Like a ghost in mourning.

Two days after her confinement to the bedroom, she stopped speaking. Though it wasn't a strict confinement, she made no attempt to leave the room, as if having forgotten that there was a whole world out there. During the day, she milled about, sometimes looking out the window for hours, sometimes opening her closet and looking at the contents in confusion. She ate little and drank less. At night, when Seras cleaned her face and body, she seemed completely apathetic, sitting there like a wooden marionette with its strings cut.

After the cleaning was done, Seras dressed her. It was a big difficult since the Hellsing director made no move whatsoever to help the process. She simply sat there and allowed whatever was necessary to be done, staring vacantly.

"Master?" Seras called after finally fitting Integra into her nightgown. "I'm finished."

Alucard entered the bedroom, sans his coat and hat. It was easier right now to be dispensed of cumbersome clothing. Seras stepped back as he bent down, picked Integra up in his arm, and carried her to her bed. She was so light.

It killed him to see her like this, and even more knowing this was all his fault. He had to push her to remember those things. He had to be presumptuous, assuming he knew her life better than she did. And now, like an avalanche, those dreadful memories had buried her, leaving her mind bent and broken.

He set her down on the bed and pulled the sheets over her. She laid there, silent and pale. He wanted to do something for her, but couldn't think of anything. If only Seras wasn't there. He would kiss her on the forehead and tell her he was sorry.

"Let's go, master," said the police girl. He nodded, and straightened. Something stopped him. Surprised, he looked down to see a slender hand clinging to his sleeve. "Is everything OK, master?"

"Go on ahead," he told her. "I think I'll stay with her for a while."

She nodded and left. Alucard stayed where he was, Integra's fingers wrapped around the fabric of his sleeve. Her eyes, however, were trailed on the ceiling, completely unaware of what her hand had done. He reached over, carefully pried her fingers open, and held her hand in his.

"All right, master," he said. "I'm listening."

"She left," she said to the ceiling.

"I'm sorry?"

"She left when I was six. I think she'll come back."

He sat down on the ottoman in front of her vanity, still holding her hand gently. "Who left?" he asked.

"She left because Daddy was never home. She was always worried. Daddy might die. Daddy might not come back one day. Daddy worked with bad people and they may kill him one day. She said I was just like him." Her voice was weak and small. Alucard could almost see her eight-year-old self, clear as day. Suddenly, he realized who she was talking about.

"One day she just disappeared," Integra went on, still staring at the ceiling. "I asked Daddy when she was coming back and he said she won't be, and that I had to be a big girl now. Big girls didn't need mommies."

She had a mother. Of course she did. Everyone did. But Alucard had never imagined his master as a little child clinging to her mother's skirt. Had Arthur married? He didn't seem the marrying kind. But regardless of their relationship, Integra had a mother. Up until now, he had assumed the woman passed away. Why had it never come up until now?

_Because it was one of those "unnecessary" things._

"Is she coming back?" He looked up. She was facing him, her eyes boring into his, though he wasn't sure if she saw him or some other figment of her imagination. "Is she coming back?" she asked again.

"No," he said. "I'm sorry."

She turned her face away from him. That was fine. He didn't want to see her tears again. How many tears must she have swallowed over the years? How many things had she wanted to cry over but didn't? How much sadness, humiliation, and pain went unnoticed, buried under her steely surface? It was all pouring out now, gushing like a river that had been dammed for ages.

He stood to leave, but she held onto his hand tightly. She didn't want to be alone. He sighed. Walter was not going to like this.

Carefully, he climbed onto the bed and laid next to her, keeping a respectful distance, their finger intertwined. Her eyes were focus on their linked hands, as if fascinated by the connection. Then, like a kitten, she shifted her body closer to his and snuggled against his chest.

After a moment of hesitation, he slipped his hand out from hers, and draped his arm loosely over her waist instead.


	10. Chapter 10

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This will likely be the only update for this month. I can't work on this any more until National Novel Writing Month is over.

Enjoy & Review!

CH. 10

In the middle of the night she awoke. Unable to sleep, Alucard had remained awake. When she stirred, he moved away and sat up, and was surprised to see that, after a moment, she did the same. In the darkness, she turned to him, and her eyes were clearer than they'd been in days.

"I can't remember you," she said to him. He almost looked around to see who she was talking to. But she looked straight at him, addressing him directly. At that moment, she seemed to have returned to her old self, her voice was steady and clear, but strangely devoid of emotion.

"That's alright," he said.

"I can't remember," she said again. "I have a headache and I can't remember who you are. But I think I have to."

He smirked. "It would be in my best interest if you do."

"I have to because you're important," she went on, as if not hearing him, and he realized that though she was acknowledging his presence, she was talking to herself. "Something tells me you're important. I keep seeing these blanks in my mind, and I think that's where you need to be."

"What kind of blanks are they?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Some of the things are not pleasant, and some are. They're all running together like a river."

"Alright." He moved a bit closer to her and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. In a normal state of mind she would never have allowed it. "Why don't you start with why _you_ feel I'm important, and we'll go from there."

"Because I love you."

His hand stopped in midair. "I beg your pardon?"

"I love you," she said, once again to herself, as casually and logically as anything. "You're important because I love you. I know Walter is important because I love him. And Seras, too. And my father. All the things and people I love are important."

Alucard slowly pulled his hand away from her. She didn't notice.

"But I don't know why I love you," she said, and laid back down on the bed, closing her eyes. "I can't remember the reason I love you. That makes me sad. Because I think I love you the most."

He looked at her for a long time. Then, more calmly than he felt, he stroke her face gently.

"If it helps," he said to her, "I love you, too."

"That's nice," she said, and drifted back into slumber. He resumed his position next to her. It was a very long night.

oOo

Around three o'clock in the morning, just as he was beginning to get comfortable in Integra's bed, an urgent call invaded his mind.

_Master._

Integra stirred, as if sensing the call also. He had no idea if there were any other side effects from their mental connection, but somehow he wouldn't be surprised if she was also hearing Seras's voice.

_Where are you, master?_

He brushed the question aside. _What do you need, police girl?_

_A type A has being identified in the market district._

He stiffened. A type A was no joke. Chances were casualties had already occurred. Unlike the low-level vampires, type As were shrewd and cunning, attacking with precision and efficiency. Many times, a type A who was truly smart would hunt without attracting attention. This one must either be cocky or had a death wish.

_Damages._

_Three civilians dead by the time we arrived on scene. It had holed itself up. It's hard to attack without causing significant damage. We need your assistance, master._

Integra turned onto her back, her head still pillowed on his arm. He bit his lip and carefully pulled his arm out. She moaned a bit, but did not wake. Quietly, he shifted off the bed and stood up. Leaving her was hard. She could awake again at any time, scared and alone. He didn't want to abandon her.

But if she was in her right mind, she would tell him to go. Duty was calling.

"Forgive me, master," he said softly and vanished into the shadows. "I must follow your orders."

The market district was usually crowded on any given day, but at night, it was deserted, empty shops stood eerily silent. It was a graveyard, or would be if not for the six armored vehicles, headlights blazing, all pointed at a particularly broken down shop. The shop, a small grocery store, was at the base of an old building, creaking with age and rot. Judging by their disposition, Alucard guessed that the soldiers hesitated to go all-out on the store, fearing they would bring the entire building down.

Seras was near. He didn't bother making himself known, mostly because he didn't feel like wasting time speaking to her or anyone else. The fast he wrapped this up, the better.

_Tell them to stand down._

"Stand down!" he heard Seras call to the others. Several soldiers lowered their weapons apprehensively.

Moving in the shadows, he entered the store alone. For having just sustained a vampire attack, it was very neat. He was surprised. Most of the goods were undamaged, and nothing significant seemed to be broken. Safe for the blood stains and the victims laying sprawled on the floor, the place was almost untouched.

A sound caught his attention. He stepped over the bodies. The rogue vampire was near. He could feel its presence. It was strong indeed, stronger than most that roamed the London streets. He passed a series of small refrigerators as a figure came into view.

It was very small, a young girl no more than fifteen years of age. From the back she almost looked like Integra – shoulder-length blond hair and white skin wrapped in a blood-stained blue dress. At first he thought he had made a mistake, but then it turned to him and he saw clear as night its blood red eyes. They were the saddest eyes he had ever seen.

"You're here," she said in a small voice, and smiled thinly. Slowly, she got to her bare feet. Her body was very thin, frail as a matchstick. It was a body that had gone unfed for a very long time. Alucard looked down at the bodies on the floor.

"I didn't feed from them," she said, almost inaudible, as if reading his mind. She likely could read his mind. She was very powerful despite her appearance. He guess that she was turned by a type A and wound up one herself.

He drew the Casull and leveled it at her chest. She didn't shirk away.

"They felt no pain," she said, and took a step closer. "I only did it so you will come, vampire hunter. I've been waiting for you. Please. Please kill me."

She was sincere. Alucard looked at her over his gun. Her eyes were innocent and fearful. "Why do you wish to die?" he asked. "Most vampires would kill their own kind just for a chance to gain your power."

A single red tear rolled down her cheek. She was so young. "I didn't ask for this," she said. "I didn't ask to become a vampire. The bloodlust consumed me when I changed, and I forgot who I was. I killed my family to feed." She buried her face in her hands, her slim body racked by sobs. "After I came to my senses, I tried to kill myself, but I don't know how. I tried drowning myself, I tried knives and guns, nothing worked. I can't live like this. I've forgotten how to be human. My body is shriveling up from hunger. It hurts so much."

This was too much. On an ordinary day he would gladly put her out of her misery, but this time, he found it hard to pull the trigger. Standing there, mourning her lost memories of humanity, she reminded him too much of Integra. Too much.

"I killed them," she continued. "I didn't know what else to do. I knew there was someone hunting vampires. You're my last chance." She looked at the bodies with forlorn eyes. "They won't be ghouls or vampires. That's all I could do for them."

He pulled the hammer back on the Casull. "What's your name?"

"Shawna."

"Shawna," he said, "I hope God has mercy on your soul." He meant it.

She smiled. "Thank you."

He fired twice, once in the chest, once in the head. The smile never left her face as her body crumbled to dust.

oOo

To put it simply, the mission did not put him in a good mood. Shawna's sad face followed him all the way back to the mansion. It was not every day that a vampire asked willingly to be shot. And to top it off, it was the only one he'd ever come across in his long life that seemed to be worthy of salvation. He couldn't say whether he believed in heaven or hell, but he hoped the child would not wind up in the latter.

He had left the troops behind and hurried back alone, not bothering to explain what had taken place. They could assume what they wished. As long as it was done, they usually didn't ask questions – the mark of good soldiers.

It was nearly dawn. He wondered if Walter was up to check on Integra. Perhaps this was a good thing after all – now the butler won't fuss that he spent the night in her bed.

But Walter and most of the household had not risen. Alucard ascended to the top floor to check on his master himself. If he was lucky, she had never realized his departure. The thought instantly perished when he saw that her door was standing ajar.

Forcing panic back down his throat, he pushed the door open. Her bed stood empty, her sheets tossed aside as if she had gotten up not long ago. He looked down the hall, hoping she hadn't gone too far, but she was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, the mansion seemed very big, a maze of possibilities, all of them menacing.

As quickly as he could manage, Alucard scoured every room on the floor. Her office, the conference room, even closets and storage, in case she had become trapped somewhere, frightened and confused. When she could not be found, he ventured downward, sticking his head into every crevice big enough to fit a human, and few that weren't. All the while, he kept himself from imaging the worst possible cases.

In her muddled mind, she could have fallen down a flight of stairs, or crawled into a space small enough to suffocate her, or found a weapon and not known what it was. He sniffed the air for blood in the vicinity, and was all too relieved when he found none.

An hour later, he had searched every corner of the mansion, even the courtyard and shooting range. The maids were beginning to rise and Walter would be up soon. He had no idea how he was going to explain the situation to the butler.

Had she wandered off the grounds? In that case she could be anywhere in the city, lost and bewildered, wearing nothing but a nightshirt. The men and vampires on the streets…

He was afraid. For the first time in his life, the No-Life King was truly afraid. But it didn't matter.

He had already resolved, that if he had to tear this city apart to bring her back safely, he would do it without hesitation.

The only thing he needed were his guns. He had left the Jackal in the dungeons. In his rush to leave and return as quickly as possible, he had not bothered with it. Now, he headed downward to retrieve it. It could prove useful in this search.

The dungeons were dark. Usually that didn't bother him, but in his frantic state of mind the search proved very difficult. At first glance, the Jackal was nowhere to be seen. The only table laid bare, as did the lid of this coffin. The shelf only held their usual line of dusty books. Upon a second scan, a glint caught his eye. There it was, on the floor. He hurried to it and bent to pick it up.

A hand laid over it. He started. Connected to it was a familiar white arm and slender shoulders.

It took a second to make out the figure melted into the shadows. She was curled up on the stone floor. It was frigid as ice but it didn't seem to bother her in the least. In fact, as she laid there on her side, she looked quite comfortable, more at least than she'd been all night. He watched as she pulled the Jackal closer to her body, stroking it lovingly with those long fingers.

He had thought she was asleep at first, but upon closer inspection, her eyes were open. Noticing him, she raised her head to look at him. There was no fear in her eyes, no apprehension. He knelt beside her.

"What are you doing down here?" he asked, helping to her knees with a gentle hand on her arm. She released the gun, her fingers slipping away as if made of sand.

"It's safe down here," she said softly. Her head was dipped, long blond locks hiding her face as she knelt there with her shoulders hunches. She looked like she was receiving punishment, or was anticipating it.

He touched her chin, nudging her face upward until their eyes met. "What were you afraid of?"

"Him," she said airy. "He's going to kill me."

Alucard got to his feet. He slid an arm under hers, and another under her legs. She made a half-attempt to take the Jackal with her, but when it slipped and fell to the floor, she didn't fuss. He carried her out of the dungeon, up the stairs. By the time they reached the hall outside of her bedroom, she had fallen back asleep, her head pillowed against his chest.

The dawn washed inside from the windows, bathing her face and hair in an almost angelic light.


	11. Chapter 11

CH 11

The little girl was pouring tea for herself when there was a knock on her door. She swung her legs over the edge of the dining chair she sat on and ignored it. The dining table was too high and the chair too big. And there was no tea in the pot. But for a child, imagination was enough.

Actually, there was no door either, and no audible knocking sound. But she felt the knocking. Someone wanted to visit her. Sadly, she was not in the mood for company. She was enjoying her peace and quiet too much to be disturbed. The stranger knocked again.

"There's no one here," she said in a sing-song voice. "Now please go away. You're disturbing the tea party."

There was a long pause. Then, the stranger said, "then who are you?"

She shrugged and sipped the imaginary tea. "I'm just me. I'm nobody."

"What if I want to come in and talk to nobody?"

She shook her head, blond locks bouncing all around. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Why not?"

She set the tea cup down. Her little legs swung back and forth. "Because you hurt me," she said. "You're the one that made all the bad things come back. How do I know you won't make it come back again?"

Another pause. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Please let me in. I just want to talk."

"I'm not the one you want to talk to." She reached for the empty plate in the middle of the table and mimed a crumpet into her mouth.

"Then where is the one I want to talk to?"

"I am her," she said around an invisible mouthful, "and she is me. But she is also gone. She has gone to a place where nothing and no one can hurt her. All the bad things have being cut out. She's finally happy."

"What do you mean by 'cut out'?"

She hopped off the chair. "I'll let you in for just a moment," she said. "Then, you can see for yourself."

oOo

Alucard sat by Integra's bed, her pale hand grasped in his. He had locked the bedroom door. Walter may come knocking soon and be quite displeased when he finds him alone with the Lady. But he had already made up his mind. This had gone on long enough. It wasn't just his spell anymore, a part of her was resisting the return to normalcy. It was fighting him every step of the way, and now he was going to find out why.

It was quite well-hidden, shrouded in the deepest abyss of her mind, surrounded by a comforting darkness. But he had found it.

It didn't want him near her, at least that partly solved the mystery of why Integra couldn't remember him. But it wasn't the complete answer. There was more to it, he was certain. Why only him? If she was abandoning the miseries of her adult life and reverting to her childhood, why did she "cut out" all the parts of him and no one else?

"You can see for yourself."

He squeezed Integra's hand gently and faded into her mind once more.

Her mindscape had changed again. This time, it was dark. There was no sky, no earth, no wind, nothing. He heard nothing, felt nothing, and for a moment saw nothing. Then the spotlight caught his eye. There, in the distance, was a beam of white light, shining out of nothing in particular. Caught in it was a dinette set. There were four chairs and a table. It looked exactly the same as the one in the manor's breakfast nook. On one of the chairs sat a familiar little girl.

"Don't track any dirt on the carpet," she said, though there was no carpet. In front of her was a pink plastic, two white porcelain saucers, and a plate. All of it was empty. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you," he told her. He had dispensed of his coat and hat, even his suit jacket, leaving only a plain white shirt, black pants, and his boots. It was an effort appear harmless, he supposed, as to not frighten her any further. "What was it you wanted to show me?"

She set leaned back in the chair and raised her arms. At first, he thought she was stretching. Then, she pointed upward, and he saw them. The doors were drifting lazily in the vast empty space like broken stars. They were all open now, some with their doors swinging loose, and others just barely ajar.

"Take a look," she said. "Look in any one of them."

As if on cue, one of the doors drifted toward him. Reaching out, Alucard grasped the knob and opened it.

"You _idiot_!"

He stopped in his tracks, one foot in the door, and the other out. The room in front of him was Integra's office, and there was no denying who the furious young woman behind the desk was. He looked behind him. The little girl wasn't paying attention to him. She seemed to be pouring air into her cup.

"Don't question me!" she yelled at him. No, not at him. He realized that though she was looking in his general direction, her eyes passed right through him. She was yelling at an empty room, at a corner as if someone was standing there.

"The number of casualties was unacceptable! It was an embarrassment to Hells…" she paused, then looked at the empty space incredulously though no one had spoken. "What do you mean by 'necessary sacrifices'? We shouldn't have _any _sacrifices! The mere fact that you would even…"

She went on and on, carrying the conversation by herself. Although Alucard knew she wasn't by herself. He remembered this conversation. It wasn't so different from a dozen other ones they'd had in her teen years. No only that, he remember standing in her office that day, rain and blood on his clothes.

So… where was he?

As she spoke, he walked further into the room, turned, and inspect the empty spot where he once was. Instead of his figure, he saw a shadow, a black murky silhouette with quivering edges in his shape.

Cut out.

oOo

The little girl was still playing her lonely tea party when he emerged. She seemed completely ignorant of the distress on his face and in his heart. He entered another door. There she was, fifteen years old and nursing her first and last broken heart, his "cut out" in the corner. Another door. There she was again, tired and discouraged after an unpleasant meeting with the Convention, his "cut out" hanging from the ceiling. Again and again, fragments of her life unfolded before him, and again and again, he was removed from it, tossed aside to be forgotten.

Finally, he exited and returned to no more doors. The little girl turned to him and motioned for him to join her at the table. He did, slumping into one of the chairs tiredly as she poured him a cup of imaginary tea.

"You remind her of how hard her life is," she told him, pushing the empty cookie plate toward him as if it would make him feel better. "Everything about you represents something that hurts her, tires her out, even shortens her life. And not only that, you've dredged up the unpleasantness from her past that she had worked so hard to forget. You brought back the demons she thought she'd defeated."

She drank from the empty cup. "Don't you want your tea?"

He wanted to say "no", but it might displease her. So, awkwardly, he took the cup and mimicked her. She smiled.

"It's all slipping away," she said.

"What is?"

"Everything. Everything that makes life hard. When it's done, life can start again, back when it was good."

His tongue felt heavy. "You're re-setting her memories?"

"She's doing it by herself. We're the same, remember? It's a good thing." She tapped her fingers on the cup and looked him up and down. "Besides, what do you have to do with it?"

He wanted to grab the kid by her collars and shake her like a rag doll. He rubbed his temples, bit his tongue, and managed to keep his temper in check. "Me? I have everything to do with it."

"I have a hard time believing that. After all, she doesn't even know who you are." She "refilled" his tea up. "_I_ don't know who you are."

"All right," he said, straightening in his chair. "Then let me remind you who I am."


	12. Chapter 12

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm very proud of Alucard's little speech here.

Enjoy & Review!

CH 12

"I'm the one who served your father, and I'm the one who serves you. I'm the one who fights your enemies and protects your country and name. I'm the one who would sit on a throne by your side and lick your boots with equal pleasure.

"I'm the one who entered your life and the one who changed it. I'm the one who met you as a little girl and saw you grow into a woman. I was there when you stopped wearing skirts. I was there when you strapped on your first holster. I was there when you walked out of your first meeting with those soggy old men, and there when you shed your first and last tear from their snide comments.

"I'm the one who calls you 'child', 'master', and 'friend'. I'm the one who would kneel before you, stand beside you, fight along you, and even lay with you if you so desired. I'm the one who would willingly fulfill any role you seek: father, brother, comrade, companion, friend, slave, confident, lover.

"I'm the one who took you to countless parties and balls, and danced with you so the slimy aristocrats wouldn't dare draw near. I'm the one who left you a rose on your last five birthdays, and pretended to be offended that you even consider me to be sentimental.

"I was the first one to hear about the date you were never able to attend, the last one to leave your side when you were on the operating table from a stay bullet, and the only one who knows why your favorite flower is lavender. I know what song reminds you of your father, which brand of cigars you smoke, and why you think white cats are bad luck.

"I've fought for you, protected you, bled for you, and taken over a thousand bullets for you. I've complimented you, chided you, teased you, make you laugh, made you angry, and even made you cry. I've brought you flowers, messages, and the heads of your enemies, sometimes all in the same day.

"When you went to the frontline, I was the one who was one step ahead. When you went to meet with the Queen, I was the one who was one step behind. When you spoke of how others doubted you, I was the one who listened. When you spoke of how you doubted yourself, I was the one who cut you off.

"When you were fourteen, you said you didn't want to be in a business that involved killing and bloodshed. I was the one who told you that if you didn't take on the role, someone less compassionate and intelligent will.

"When you were sixteen, you fell for a boy who called you ugly because you wore pants instead of skirts. I was the one who told you you were beautiful and he was blind.

"When you were seventeen, you worried about living up to the title of a knight. I was the one who informed you that you had being a knight all along.

"When you were twenty-one, you stopped believing me when I told you you were strong, courageous, intelligent, and a beauty to boot. I will be the one who sticks around and keep saying those things until you decide to believe again.

"Look at me.

"For the last ten years, it was my eyes you looked into and stood your ground, my ears which heard your orders, my tongue that refuted your sharp words, and my hands that threw back the hammer on the gun. When the world ends, I'll still stand by your side. If the country burns to the ground, I'll be there to dust the ashes off your collar."

She looked at him for a very long time, silent as he spoke. When he finished, her eyes were sad and distant. "You don't understand at all," she said.

"Tell me what I don't understand," he said.

She pushed the teapot and cup aside. They fell off the table, dropping into oblivion. "I don't understand completely either," she told him, "because I am only a part of her. But I know this: you are the one who made her life complicated. Before you came along, she was happy, and with each day that she spent with you, life got a little more complicated."

"She didn't seem to mind her life."

"Just because she can deal with it, doesn't mean she's happy." She looked him straight in the eyes. "Do you love her?"

Somehow, he felt that he had been waiting for that question for a very long time. "Yes," he said. "I do."

"Then don't you want her to be happy?"

"You're asking me if I can let her be happy, even if it's in a life without me."

She nodded. "Yea," she said. "Something like that."

A gentle sound filled the air, growing louder by the second. It was the sound of her laughter. In the recent past he had become more acquainted with the sound than he'd been in the ten years prior. It was warm, filled with carelessness and joy. Then he thought of the tears she'd shed, all the things that hurt her, including himself.

"She'll smile more," said the little girl.

oOo

Integra woke to the sunlight tickling her face. She started to open her eyes, but quickly closed them again when she realized how bright the room was. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, yawning. She must have slept late. Was she late for her lessons? Walter will be mad. He always lectured her on being punctual.

The drapes were open. She didn't remember leaving them open. In fact, she didn't remember much at all. Last night seemed very far away. What had she been doing? Her body felt sore, like she'd slept on something hard instead of her soft bed.

She pushed the covers off and swung her legs over the side and stretched. The sunlight felt good on her skin. It look her a moment to notice the person sitting on a chair in the shadows. Her eyes widened.

"Daddy!"

The man stood and extended his arms to her. She ran to him and fell into his embrace. He held her tightly.

"You're back, Daddy!"

She felt him nod. He was back. She was so happy that he was back. Now they could be together again, at least for a little while. When her daddy was around, she didn't need anything else.

"Daddy?"

He didn't let go.

"Daddy, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"


	13. Chapter 13

CH 13

The little girl was eight. She will be nine soon. She lived a life that was carefree and joyful, at least for the time being. There were many things about the world she didn't understand, but she wasn't afraid to learn them. Some day, she thought, she would make her father proud, because he was the one that mattered most.

_Was he?_

She walked with a light step, and she liked to wear dresses, because that's what ladies wore. She liked to read and ask questions and have tea parties. And she liked to dance. She had taken dance lessons.

_Though she seemed to have forgotten the steps, as though she hadn't danced in many years, more years than she'd being alive._

Her hair was long.

_Longer than she remembered._

She had good eyesight, but not as good as she would have liked.

_When did her glasses get thicker?_

There were few people in her life because she couldn't go out and play with other children. So she danced the halls alone, read books with Walter, and sometimes played dolls with the new maid, the girl with a blond bob and big smiling eyes.

_Where had she come from?_

She was happy for the time being. Her life was right. But somehow, she felt like she had being dreaming a happy dream. Did she ever wake up? She wasn't sure. Maybe she was still dreaming. It was awfully hard to tell. As she spread her arms and spun on her toes bathed in the evening light, humming to herself, she tried to think, to find that one thing her mind kept nagging about.

_Where is it?_

It felt as if she had lost happiness for a while and then found it again, but she couldn't remember how or why she had lost it. And this new happiness, it wasn't the same. It's not the happiness she remembered. But how can that be? What was missing?

_Where are you?_

She gazed out the window. The sun was setting.

_Where are you?_

The sky turned a deep red, a red that seemed familiar. She wanted to reach out and seize it, to go towards it even if it meant falling out of the window. There was a phantom ache of longing in her heart.

_Come back to me. _

That red sun, it made her feel lonely.

_ I miss you._

oOo

Enrico Maxwell approached the mansion's front steps after the guards at the gate let him in grudgingly. They knew who he was, undoubtedly from the Protestant sow, and they weren't fond of him. Still, they weren't fools. One gaze at Anderson's menacing form and they stepped back obediently.

"I still don't see why you keep insisting on dropping by," said the priest, who had being fidgety ever since they pulled up outside. The vampire's scent must be in the air.

"It's just a visit, Anderson," Maxwell said with a thin smile. "We must obey the orders of the higher-ups to make nice with the heathens for the time being. Not to worry. When the time comes, they will all be crushed like the roaches they are."

Anderson didn't indicate whether he was pleased with that notion or not, but at least he gave no more comments or reservations as they drew closer. Enrico lifted his eyes to the sky.

"Look how gorgeous the sunset is, Anderson," he said. "It's the color of the end of another day. And…"

His words caught in his throat. Lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the light, he squinted. Had he made a mistake? There was no way…

There, leaning out of a window on the third storey, was a woman. She was leaning so far out that Maxwell feared she was going to fall out. But she held tight to the windowsill and gazed toward the sun. Her blond hair was being washed orange by the waning light.

It couldn't be the sow, it simply couldn't be. But then she looked down at them. Her eyes were bright and curious like a child's, and he saw that she was wearing a strapless cotton dress. It molded her form like pain on a Grecian statue. As their eyes met, she lifted a pale hand and moved a long lock of blond hair out of her face. Then, she smiled at him.

"Uh, Anderson?"

Her peach lips spread with the smile, which coated her bright face and extended all the way to her sapphire eyes.

"Yes, sir?"

Maxwell turned on his heels stiffly like a marionette and headed out the gate. Anderson followed in confusion.

"Have you decided against the visit, sir?"

"I think it's best we return," Maxwell said over his shoulder. "I think there must have been something odd in the wine I had with dinner."

oOo

"Miss Integra?"

The little girl turned to see Walter standing not far away. He had more gray hairs than she remembered, but it must be her imagination. She looked toward the sun again. Somehow, it was hard to turn away from it. "Yes, Walter?"

"What are you doing leaning so far out? Be careful or you'll fall."

She shook her head. "I won't fall."

_Someone will catch me._

Reaching past her, he closed the window and fastened the latch. "Dinner will be ready soon," he told her. "Be sure to wash up."

She pursed her lips. "Walter?"

"Yes?"

"Where is…"

_Who are you?_

"Where is…"

She couldn't come up with a name. It was right on the tip of her tongue and yet so far away. A name she once knew, she was certain. It was right there, so close, but she couldn't remember. Walter was waiting expectantly. She shook her head.

"Never mind." She forced a smile. "I'll be right down to dinner."

After Walter left, instead of washing up like she ought to, she went to her father's office. It was empty. She snuck inside on tip-toes as if someone might catch her, closed the door, and went to his desk. Once there, she opened all the drawers, flipped through the papers and folders, and examined every object on the desk. The search yielded nothing of use.

She went to the bookshelf next and check every book, including a few binders filled with notes. In a few places were signatures on what looked like legal documents. Her name, though she couldn't remember ever writing them there.

Finally, deflated, she went to the window and pressed her face against it. The soldiers were running an evening drill. She could see the man with his hair in a long winding braid directing them. She had seen him around but, for some odd reason, she was told not to go near him, especially not in dresses.

The men ran a routine drill. She'd seen it before. It was boring. She started to head down to dinner when a shape on the edge of the field suddenly caught her eye.

_Who are you?_

Her heart pounded though she didn't know why. Without realizing it, she pushed against the glass, trying to get a better look at the shape. It was definitely there, someone she knew, the one she had being trying to remember.

_Where have you been?_

She flew down the stairs of the mansion, nearly knocking over Walter on his way up. The old butler gazed after her in surprise for a moment before quickening his step to follow.

oOo

Alucard had watched the Wild Geese run drills listlessly for the past hour. At first, a few of them had tried to engage him in some sort of conversation. The French captain scooted close to him a few times and tried to make cracks about the length of the police girl's skirt and the maid outfit she'd donned recently. He was trying to make light of the mood. Despite how he acted in front of Seras, Bernadette wasn't stupid, and making cracks was his way of showing concern. Sadly, Alucard wasn't quite in the mood to play along. After a few one-sided conversations, Pip skulked away.

Three days had passed. They were three of the longest days of his existence. During the day he played Arthur, keeping Integra company a few hours at a time, at night he went about his usual tasks after putting her to bed. She would always kiss him goodnight.

She did smile more. She was always smiling. Every time she saw him, she smiled. But it was a strangely hollow feeling to know that it wasn't his own face that made her smile.

Was her life really so much better before him?

Perhaps it was. And at this point, he only had himself to blame for finding out this fact. In his effort to help her rediscover herself, he wound up being the one who learned more about her. Her pain, her secrets, and her desire to go back to a simpler time that didn't involve his presence.

The Geese had lined up for target practice. A few of them complained that the target were too far.

"Hey!" he heard Bernadette yell, "those were the police girls' specifications. Take it up with her, not me."

"You scared of her, Cap'n?" someone at the end of the line yelled. "I would be too if she beat me up like that."

"She did _not _beat me up," Bernadette insisted. "I told you, we just got a little rough in the stairwell."

"She rough you up for trying to stick you hand where it don't belong?"

"Ye… No!" The sound of a smack to the back of someone's head. Laughter. Alucard didn't join in. "Alright, you dogs, weapons where I can see' em!" The sound of a zipper being unzipped. "Hey, put that away!"

It was going to be dark soon. Integra should be having dinner right about now. Alucard considered joining her. He could only listen to the Geese prattle on so long.

"Hey, look!"

He prepared to shift into Arthur's shape.

"Is that target moving?"

A playful punch. "You been out in the sun too long."

He moved into the shadows so the Geese wouldn't notice his transformation.

"No, I'm serious. One of those things are moving."

_Where are you?_

He straightened abruptly, at the same time Bernadette said, "it's probably a test. Open fire!"


	14. Chapter 14

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the final chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Stay tuned on livejournal for news regarding new upcoming stories.

Enjoy & Review!

CH 14

_For the last ten years, it was my eyes you looked into and stood your ground, my ears which heard your orders, my tongue that refuted your sharp words, and my hands that threw back the hammer on the gun. When the world ends, I'll still stand by your side. If the country burns to the ground, I'll be there to dust the ashes off your collar._

Slowly, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

"I remember now," she whispered, "you're the one who saved me."

oOo

The bullets went into his back. None passed through. His blood splattered over her white dress as she stood before him, her eyes wide. A spot of blood landed on her cheek. She didn't move to wipe it away. With a start he realized he had forgotten to take on Arthur's shape. Then, she asked him a question.

"How did I forget?"

He had no answer for her. Slowly, she reached up and touched his face with both hands. Behind him, he heard the Wild Geese talking amongst themselves in confusion.

"How did I forget?" she asked again. Her voice was soft and airy, like she was talking in her sleep. "What could possibly make me forget?"

Slowly, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

"I remember now," she whispered, "you're the one who saved me. Now and then and countless times in between. You saved me. Alucard."

His was numb. Everything swam together as she pressed her body against him, holding him tightly like an old love coming home after years apart. Yes, it felt like years. It felt like years since her heard her real voice.

Then, she pulled away, gazed into his eyes, and punched him in the face.

"This is your fault!" he heard her shout in anger. By the time the stars in front of his eyes cleared she had drew back her arm and hit him again. "I don't know what you did but this was your fault, wasn't it?"

He smiled.

"Don't give me that look! Do you know how much work I missed? Do you even know how catastrophic this could have turned out to be?" Memories seem to be flooding back to her. She rubbed her temples. "Oh God… I've been running around dressed like…" She looked down, suddenly aware of her state of dress, and wrapped both arms around her chest. Her face was turning an angry shade of red.

He reached out to her. She tried to push him away.

"Don't touch me, you git! You will pay for…"

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her into his arms, holding her as tight as he could without breaking her spine. She struggled, cursing and reprimanding him, but a few moments later fell silent and relented to his embrace.

oOo

"Bernadette."

Pip stiffened, looking around as if hoping she was addressing someone else. Walter and Seras looked away innocently, avoiding his pleading gaze.

"Y-yes, sir?"

"I understand you were running your mouth to the Geese, telling them you happened upon me in a dress, is that true?" Pip swallowed thickly. Integra leveled her gaze on him, a cigar between her teeth. She waited. "Well?"

"Yes, sir," he blurted out. "I'm sorry I intruded when I shouldn't. I didn't mean to see… even though I think you looked damn good, I mean…"

"Quiet," Integra said evenly. Pip clamped his mouth shut. "It didn't happen. You saw nothing. You were hallucinating from inhaling too much smoke on the shooting range."

Pip blinked. "Uh…"

"Understood?" Pip nodded quickly. "Good. You can go now."

As Pip scuttled away, Seras and Walter stepped forward. Integra folded her hands and turned to them. "I only have this to say to you both," she said, and, taking the cigar out of her mouth, favored them with that rare smile. "Thank you."

Walter bowed. Seras stood at attention and saluted. "It was our pleasure, my lady," said the butler.

"And officer Victoria?" Seras nodded. "You may burn the maid's outfit if you wish. If you wish to keep it, I recommend keeping it out of Captain Bernadette's reach."

Seras scratched her head sheepishly. "Uh…"

"You already burned it, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright then." Integra gave the two a nod. "You are dismissed."

As the office door closed behind them, the one she'd been waiting for stepped out of the shadows. He stood before her, removed his hat, and bowed deeply. She took a long drag from the cigar and fix her eyes on him.

"You," she said, "let's go over the results of your little trick, shall we?"

Alucard nodded with a smile. Despite her continuous threat to dismember him, he hasn't stopped smiling since their little adventure on the range this afternoon. It was really starting to annoy her.

"Starting with the fact that you tempered with my mind without my permission. It was a dangerous move that could have left me in a permanent mentally crippled state, thus putting the entire future of Hellsing at risk. Then, instead of coming clean to Walter, you kept your wrongdoing a secret. You put my life, my reputation, and Hellsing itself in jeopardy. Not only that, Pip Bernadette and Enrico Maxwell saw me in a dress.

"And let's not forget the incident in my bedroom. Did you really think you were going to get away unscathed after assaulting me in my own house? And in my father's body, no less. Although I do commend you for have enough sense to control yourself before it got out of hand. Otherwise we would be having this conversation through the dungeon door.

"And finally," she sighed, "you gave up on me. And that, Alucard, disappointed me the most."

"Integra…"

"That's what happened in the end, wasn't it? You gave up and decided to let me stay that way, possibly forever. What made you think that was the right move?"

He looked past her at the rising moon. "I was under the impression that, by forgetting me, you would be happier. I thought by sacrificing your memories of me, you would find the happiness you desire."

"How noble of you," she chortled. "You don't make that decision, Alucard. You do not decide how this household runs, you do not decide what I need to remember or forget, and most of all, you do not decide whether I want you in my life or not. That decision is mine and mine alone."

He nodded. "Understood, master."

She sat back in her chair. There was a lingering wistfulness in her eyes. "In the end," she said slowly, "I suppose you did this because you felt I was keeping too many things from you and from myself. I'd say you've had an eyeful these last few weeks. And to a point you are right - I shouldn't be so poignant about hiding these things from you. Is there anything else you want know?"

Alucard shook his head. "I think I have all the answers I need. More than I bargained for, in fact. And I take full responsibility for this matter. I will gladly take any punishment. But before that, I only have one question."

"Go on."

"The things you said that night - are they true?"

She smiled. "You will never know, and that, my dear servant, is your punishment."

END


End file.
